Captive: Part 2
by FlintFyre
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are taken into Malfoy Manor after Harry utters the tabooed name of 'Voldemort'. However, Harry and Ron's punishments may not be quite what they expected. Written from Ron's perspective. Warnings are in the Author's Note.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This version of the story is in Ron's point of view. The other fanfiction, "Captive Part 1", is written from Harry's perspective. The events in each chapter don't line up from story to story, so I'm not entirely sure which you should read first. Whoever you like best, I guess. However, you may rest assured to know that both stories also have different parts and scenes that may not be included in one or the other. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story nonetheless, whichever version you may read first! I may or may not continue it in a 'part three' once the double-character thing gets a bit tiresome, but I have absolutely no idea. Have fun!

Included in this story is non-consensual sex, sex between two males, violence, and probably a lot of swearing. And did I say sex?

* * *

><p>What. The. Fuck.<p>

Ron just watched as Malfoy falsely identified Harry as someone else. Being the youngest child of an outrageously large family and victim to five older brothers, not to mention the best friend of a self-sacrificing martyr, he knew when to tell someone was lying, and Malfoy was pulling out all the stops. The bloody git made up some shitty story about a Quidditch wound, which Ron couldn't remember ever happening, and then proceeded to insist that Harry was not Harry. Bull shit.

Ron didn't know what the bastard was up to, but he knew it was probably some self-serving purpose, and didn't think for once that he was actually trying to help Harry at all. Six years of merciless teasing about his 'blood traitor' status and 'mudblood' friend wasn't enough to pin this on, but the constant hexes sent his way and Draco's assisting in the murder of the best headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen _was_. However, it was their only chance at survival, so Ron played his part of terrified captive as best he could. And, seriously, this bloke who was holding him needed a fucking breath mint or something.

"Alright, well, just…just put them with the others, I suppose. It's not as though we can take them to the ministry now, they know too much, obviously," Lucius said, looking crestfallen. "We will decide later what to do with them."

"Father, a word," Draco said at the last minute, appearing to decide on something.

Here we go, this is the fucking catch.

Draco walked over to his father and Fenrir joined him, along with most of his gang. They formed a circle, not speaking lowly, but far enough away to where the captives could not hear.

Ron took this moment to look over at Harry. He knew he must be feeling pretty weird right now, what with all that was happening. He also knew that Harry had some deep-rooted problems with being exposed in front of too many people. Harry probably thought he didn't notice, but Ron had always given him space in the mornings to change and after practice to shower, because whenever Ron had tried to talk to him at these times, Harry seemed to get increasingly nervous. He also knew that Harry didn't notice that _he _noticed Harry looking him up and down on several occasions in the showers after Quidditch. But that was for another time, and he knew Harry didn't mean to be weird or mean anything by it, so he just disregarded the actions.

He noticed Bellatrix eyeing Harry's exposed skin, however, and suppressed a very powerful retch. The old hag, who looked like a bloody terrifying skeleton, was interested in younger boys, eh? Ron couldn't help but feel terrified that she might do something to his best friend, and his fear increased as Harry gave a panicked look back at him. Was she bloody feeling him up?

He noticed Harry's face was a little less swollen.

As the group made their way back, Draco told Bellatrix to take 'Ugly' upstairs, to which she looked at him weird. Ron would have pondered it more, were he not stuck on the whole 'upstairs' part. What were they going to do to Harry now?

Ron suddenly looked up and found Fenrir Greyback in all his hairy, meaty bulk towering before him. He seized Ron's upper arm painfully and dragged him to his feet. He would probably be tortured before being killed, since he was still masquerading as a Weasley technically. At least Harry kept his identity hidden, due to him not being 'Ronald Weasley, obvious sidekick and fellow-meddler of Harry Potter'. Instead he was 'Barny Weasley, normal blood-traitor'. He turned to reassure Hermione that it would be alright, even though it wouldn't, but found her to be still sitting, completely forgotten by Greyback. What was going on?

"_And you, I'm gonna make you my personal little fuck buddy,"_ Ron felt the giant whisper against his neck.

As he processed this completely unexpected statement, Ron's mind raced. He soon realized what Fenrir was getting at and felt the blood drain from his face.

"GET THIS MANIAC AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE SICK!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs.

He wrenched his arm away, trying to break the hold of the giant meat-hook that was clamped around his arm.

"Shut up!" Fenrir merely said, clearly not at all displeased with the reaction he was getting. He grinned evilly, showing his pointed canines more.

Ron shouted something that was meant to be an insult, but was lost in his haste to break the vice-grip on his arm, but to no avail.

"YOU'RE ALL BLOODY SICK AND NEED HELP! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" he managed to bellow. He was vaguely aware of Harry being steered upstairs, but his own peril had him too distracted. Fenrir looked completely unthreatened, and raised his hand to strike Ron upside the head.

He felt dazed, and stumbled slightly. Greyback took the opportunity to grab him from behind, wrapping one arm around Ron's torso. Half-carrying him, Greyback turned to Malfoy senior.

"May we use your guestroom? I wouldn't want to be…interrupted…back at the lair," Greyback grinned evilly, and Ron's head jerked up to see Lucius' reaction to this.

The slimy git just grimaced slightly and said, "Certainly, last door on the left on the second floor. Do please try to keep it down, though. Draco is on the same landing."

Ron's panic returned full-blast. He looked over at Hermione, who seemed to realize what was going on after hearing the exchange between Fenrir and Lucius, and he could see tears streaming down her cheeks and a terrified look on her face. This caused a wave of guilt, sadness, and embarrassment to wash over him. He wished she didn't know…this made it ten times worse…

"Well, let's go, pup," Greyback said, squeezing Ron's slightly freckled cheek painfully, then slapping it. Ron scoffed and turned his head away furiously.

He felt Greyback begin to shove him towards the stairs where Harry had disappeared, and Ron flailed against the beast with all he could, shouting more.

"Get away from me! LET ME GO!" Ron yelled, struggling against his wrist restraints and Greyback's grip on his torso.

Greyback merely lifted Ron up slightly, still with one arm, and dragged him up the stairs. Ron could feel Greyback's excited breath on his neck again, and felt a forceful nip at his pulse by sharp teeth after he had tried to kick the offender. This made Ron yelp, and he felt sickened by the sexual flavor Fenrir added to the next nip at the back of his neck. He shuddered.

"Now, wait in here," he growled, shoving Ron into the room at the end of the long, dark hallway. Ron landed on a bed.

He wished he didn't know why it was here.

Moving forward, Greyback reached down at Ron, seeming to remember something. He fisted Ron's hair, making him grunt in pain, and pointed his wand at Ron's mouth. Ron tried to pull away, but Fenrir was too strong for him. He saw something fly out of the tip and felt it go over the top of his mouth and wrap around the back of his head tightly, preventing him from saying another word. Greyback eyed him hungrily, backing out of the room, and then slammed the door hard, causing the room to shake. Ron sat up again, looking with rage at where the fucking monster had disappeared. He wondered how long he had.

Ron tried to keep his mind blank, but the panic he felt prodding at the edges of his thoughts was being persistent. He tried not to think of what would happen to him, tried not to think of what this man had brought him up here for, tried not to think why he needed to be gagged and bound for it…

He would be fucked. Most likely mercilessly, if Fenrir's fucking was any mirror to his other activities. He had been brought up here to be used as a toy for one purpose, and one purpose only. He could only hope that death would soon follow, because he really didn't think he could take living with the consequences afterward. He shuddered in the darkness as he thought of the injuries he would most likely receive. He wasn't a fool. He had seen his brother's face, once handsome and smooth, now marred with scars that had yet to fade. He had heard of the unfortunate victims that Greyback attacked, preferring to use his teeth even when not in wolf form…

Ron felt the unmistakable stinging of tears in the corners of his eyes as he realized his life would soon end. He was still a virgin, for Christ's sake. And now he would be taken cruelly by this monster of a half-human, and then possibly beaten and scratched to a bloody pulp. Ron wasn't afraid to die, he had been a good person and helped as many people as he could during his life. It was just the way he would die that scared him. Bill had said it was the most painful thing that could ever happen to anyone, being attacked like he was…Ron wondered if getting fucked roughly beforehand would make him change his opinion about that…

He flopped backwards onto the bed, despair making itself the only emotion he had left to accompany him. He wondered where Harry was.

It seemed to be ages he sat there in the dark room, awaiting his doom. His thoughts became slowly more morbid as time passed. He wondered if there were any sharp objects in the room, and maybe he could beat Greyback to it…

Too late.

The door swung forcefully open again, and that familiar hulking figure was shadowed in the doorway. Ron could only mentally sigh and watch.

"Well well pup, wrapped up like a little present, aren't we? I must say, your little whore friend's moaning got me all worked up, so I thought now would be the perfect time to make use of you," he grinned, pointed canines sparkling even in the lack of lighting.

Ron wondered who he meant by 'whore friend'. He scowled up at Greyback. If they fucking touched Hermione…

But the open door let him hear for himself. He heard the distinct sound of one male voice whining loudly, then crying out breathlessly. It sounded like Harry. Ron closed his eyes tightly, feeling sick. They had said Malfoy was on this floor too, which meant that Harry was now being taken advantage of by their slimy school rival. He knew Malfoy had wanted something for himself, and he guessed that Harry was that thing. Of course. He couldn't fuck Harry if Harry was identified and killed. Ron had always suspected that Malfoy was gay, he just never suspected him to go after Harry, of all people. Sick bastard.

Ron would have continued feeling concerned for his best friend's well-being if he didn't notice that Greyback had now closed the door and was slowly encroaching on himself. So began this terrible nightmare, Ron thought bitterly.

Fenrir grabbed him by his ginger hair and pulled him upward to his feet off the bed. The giant of a man leaned down (being much taller) and bit at his neck, hard, making him make a strangled noise against the gag over his mouth. He did it again, in a different place on his smooth skin, and Ron tried to contain his cry of pain this time. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He almost feinted though when he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper to trousers being pulled down. Ron wondered what on earth he was doing, before he felt extreme pressure from the hands on his shoulders. Greyback pushed him to his knees and Ron felt the gag disappear.

"Ready to gain some experience, pup?" Greyback taunted, whipping out his half-hard dick. Ron swallowed. It was quite large.

"Fuck you," he said quietly, glaring up at the man. He wouldn't make this bloody _easy_ for the bastard.

The man growled and seized Ron's hair painfully. Ron gasped, and, while his mouth was open, Fenrir shoved his large penis between Ron's lips. He didn't think he had ever felt more humiliated…

Greyback proceeded to then thrust into his mouth, shoving deeper each time. Ron gagged as he hit the back of his throat, and could feel Greyback harden fully after only a few more thrusts. His cheeks were flushed as they burned from embarrassment and from being choked periodically. His face was being used in ways it shouldn't. Disgust radiated through Ron as he felt Greyback increase his speed and push at the back of Ron's head, forcing him onto his cock. Ron could barely breathe. Tears streaked his cheeks, and he told himself it was because he was choking to death, and _not_ because of the utter helplessness he felt. Hands tied behind his back, he could only wait for Greyback to finish.

He suspected he was close, because Fenrir began growling again and thrusting harder into Ron's mouth, causing him to gag more. He felt Greyback's fist tighten in his hair, causing the ginger to make a protesting noise against the dick being jammed into his mouth. The man merely grunted in pleasure at the vibrations it sent up his shaft.

"Take it all," the larger man said in a gruff voice. That was all the warning Ron had before the cock in his mouth convulsed and he felt the hot cum fill his mouth. He gagged as some went down his throat, Fenrir's dick still in him.

When he pulled away, Ron coughed and tried to spit it out, but Fenrir pulled him up quickly, clamping a hand over his mouth, pushing him down onto the bed and straddling him. Ron choked, now laying on his back, unable to get rid of the horribly salty cum in his mouth with Greyback's hand preventing him from doing so. Unless he –

"Swallow it," Greyback growled, grinning with malice. Ron felt some dribble down the side of his mouth. He was completely disgusted. Greyback laughed as he struggled, turning his head wildly back and forth beneath Greyback's huge hand to try and get rid of it without having to drink it like a whore. "Do it!"

Ron whimpered, closing his eyes in humiliation. Finally, because he needed to breathe sometime, he gulped it down. It was completely repulsive, and Ron hated this fucking bastard for making him do it. As if the act wasn't degrading enough…

"There's a good little pup. I think we'll keep your mouth free, though. I want to hear you scream," he said menacingly. Ron felt all color leave his face.

"But you just – " Ron started weakly.

"Oh, your little act there got me all excited again," Greyback said, laughing at Ron's innocent expression. "I do like a bit of fight in them."

Ron grunted as he felt himself being flipped over onto his stomach. He heard himself groan as he realized what Greyback was going to do next.

"Don't act like it's all _my_ fault, pup. You're practically begging for it with those fucking tight jeans on," the man growled into Ron's ear from behind him, nipping at the shell when he finished.

Ron blushed profusely, looking away. He would have punched the insane bastard if his arms weren't currently cramping behind his back.

Greyback leaned over him, pressing his still bare and erect penis against Ron's jean-clad arse. He growled in pleasure and rutted against him a few times, perhaps to not leave any doubt in Ron's mind as to what was going to happen to him. He then reached beneath Ron and unbuttoned his jeans. Ron whimpered softly again, unable to hide his fear. He felt his jeans and underwear pulled down at the same time, being left to rest somewhere near his mid thigh. Calloused hands grabbed his arse roughly, squeezing his skin too hard.

"So smooth and untouched…But then, we'll soon fix that," Fenrir said, laughing darkly. He slapped one cheek, making Ron blush harder.

Ron felt his hips seized on either side, and could only let himself be propped slightly onto his knees, as his arms were still useless. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable…

He felt it, the blunt offender, first resting against his entrance, no doubt Greyback trying to cause suspense. Then, without warning, he pushed into Ron firmly, making him scream and tense. Ron had never screamed so loudly before, but then again he had never felt like he was being torn in half before either.

"Such a tight little arse," Greyback said lowly, his hips now right against Ron's. He pulled back and slammed into him again, hard.

Between gasps of breath, Ron couldn't stop himself from letting out a pathetic sob. The pain was too much. He cried out each time that loathsome beast of a man pounded into him, feeling himself actually tearing and knowing there would be blood. It was as unforgiving and cruel as he had expected, yet much, much worse all the same. Greyback pushed down on Ron's shoulders as he continued to fuck his virgin hole mercilessly, ignoring Ron's pleading.

"Please!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs, not caring how helpless he sounded anymore. "Just – ah! – just STOP!"

"_Oh yeah_," Greyback breathed into Ron's neck, biting it fiercely as he pumped in and out of his arse. He growled again, quickening his pace and breathing heavily.

Ron whined into the blankets on the bed, his only comfort at the moment. Tears found their way down his freckled cheeks again, and he let out smaller cries as the pain seemed to slowly ebb away. He wondered if he was getting used to it, or if he was just simply passing out. He hoped it was the latter.

But before sweet darkness could take him over, he felt the werewolf dig his sharp fingernails into the skin of Ron's hips painfully, most likely drawing blood. He gasped, clenching his eyes shut. Greyback began pulling him back to meet the thrusts, growling appreciatively. One hand wound its way back into Ron's hair, pulling him up slightly.

"Scream for me again," the large man said into Ron's ear.

When Ron didn't do anything, not really out of stubbornness but more from the inability to think, he bit down hard on Ron's neck. This time, as he cried out loudly from the agony, he could actually feel his fair skin splitting and blood trickling down his neck onto his shirt. Greyback lapped it up, licking along Ron's abused throat.

"Uhn," Ron said, not really meaning to say anything. He felt so tired and hoarse from screaming. He wondered vaguely how much blood he had lost from this ordeal already. Then he wondered how much more he would lose.

Greyback held Ron forcefully and began grunting against the shell of his ear. One hand clenched his right hip painfully tight, no doubt adding more bruises to the others he probably already sustained, and the other hand was pulling at his short hair, making him hurt even worse. He opened his eyes to stare at the wall before him, wishing he would stop crying. It made him feel like even more of a helpless victim. Ron felt Greyback's tongue again, this time on his cheek, licking up a few tears too.

"I love the taste of fear," the beast said sickeningly, making Ron's stomach feel cold. Fenrir's breath was getting heavier and the speed of his pounding was increasing. The hand clenched in Ron's hair mercifully released its hold. However, he felt it trailing under his arm, over his chest, and finally up to his neck.

Ron began to panic as Fenrir squeezed around his throat, choking him. He tried to reach up and pry it off, but realized yet again that his hands were uselessly tied behind his back. All he could do was let out a strangled cry as he felt his consciousness leaving him. But just as darkness was about to take him again, he felt Greyback loosen his hold, and gulped in breath. The sadist repeated this act a few times, but never quite let Ron escape into unconsciousness, always bringing him back. It was torture.

Finally, after what felt like hours of a horrific nightmare for Ron, the werewolf growled with pleasure and slowed, thrusting through his orgasm. Ron could feel a sickening wet warmth grow inside him, spreading into his body. It felt like poison.

The larger man grunted and pulled out, ignoring Ron's pained gasp as he did so, and stood. Ron panted, feeling extremely drained.

"Very good, pup," the man said, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping his trousers again. "I'll see you tomorrow for another session. I don't think I could stay away from that tight arse if I tried."

And with a cackle, he left. Ron lay there with a foreboding feeling. Tomorrow? How many times would he have to go through this?

He lay there pathetically, limp and sore, wishing the most painful death on the man who had just forced him to do the most humiliating things. Ron wasn't sure how, but he managed to roll onto his side, gasping as he did from the pain. He felt something wet between his legs and looked down.

"Oh god," he said, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back onto the bed. He had blood running down his leg, along with what looked like cum. He could imagine what he looked like, laying there bleeding with his jeans still down around his thighs. Probably numerous bruises and neck bites, one of which he could feel bleeding still. His throat hurt from Fenrir's torturous strangling hold.

He wanted to pass out. He wanted it so desperately. But the horror of what had just happened to him kept his mind from closing off. He kept replaying it, despite his mental protests, and he knew that doing this only furthered Greyback's influence on him. But he couldn't stop it. All he kept hearing was the man's terrifying voice whispering obscenities in his ear as he shoved in and out of Ron's abused body.

_Scream for me again._

Ron shivered, burying his face into the covers of the bed he had been abandoned on. Blood dripped from his neck onto the silky fabric as he lay there, alone. A tear fought its way through his defenses again, which opened the flood gates.

Ron sobbed silently into the darkness.

* * *

><p>He hadn't noticed that someone had come in while he broke down completely, shedding numerous tears onto the bedspread as he lay on his side. He tried to be quiet in case Greyback decided to come back for another go, but he couldn't stop himself from crying the hardest he had ever cried in his life. His broken body shook with his wracking breaths, slightly curled up on the bed, and his arms hung limply behind him, still bound.<p>

It was when he felt a hand on his shoulder that he stopped, shocked into silence. He held his breath and looked around quickly, feeling his punctured neck protest. The hand retreated as Ron moved.

He could make out someone in the dark room, standing beside the bed, but didn't see their face clearly enough to tell who it was. The dark and his tears clouded his vision. Ron felt his stomach tighten, wondering if he was given to someone else now until Fenrir returned tomorrow…

"Who're you?" Ron said, hating how weak he sounded.

No answer.

The man reached for Ron, who jerked away from the outstretched hand, not wanting a repeat of what had happened just minutes ago. But the man persisted, moving forward and pulling on one of Ron's bound arms, sliding him over to the edge of the bed where the man could get at him. Ron closed his eyes, wishing he could just rest for a second before_ another_ person forced him down and fucked him.

But apparently that wasn't what the man had in mind after all. He felt hands on his hips and cringed, but realized that his jeans were being pulled up to cover him again. He heard the zipper being pulled and felt tender hands button the clasp. He felt a little better, being clothed again. The man, still leaning over him, grabbed him in what Ron would have thought was a hug, but realized he was being pulled up into a sitting position. He grunted with the pain that came with moving so much, and felt light-headed when he was upright.

The man straightened Ron's shirt and stepped back, pulling out a wand. Ron flinched, eyes widening. What was he going to do?

The person waved his wand briefly, and Ron felt the ropes around his wrists disappear. He breathed a sigh of relief, put his hands in his lap, and looked at his wrists. From what he could tell, they were bruised and scarred where the ropes had been, probably from his exertion while Greyback was torturing him.

Ron shook his head, looking up at the man in the darkness across the room. He seemed to be hesitating, for some reason. Then, the most unlikely person's voice spoke into the silence.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Weasley."

Ron felt a weird twinge in the pit of his stomach.

"M-Malfoy?" Ron said, his voice still shaky.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and left. Ron saw his white-blonde hair shine briefly in the doorway from the light in the hall before he shut the door and was gone. He heard it squelch shut as it was magically sealed from the outside.

Ron lay back down, too tired to keep up the effort of sitting up, shaking. He was sweaty from the previous ordeal he had just endured and tears still stained his freckled cheeks, but he felt a bit better with the use of his arms. He ran his hands through his red hair with a trembling hand, sighing into the darkness again. He wondered why Malfoy had helped him. He was undoubtedly part of the reason Ron was here, anyways. But then, maybe that was why he was apologizing…

He lay there for he didn't know how long, just staring up at the ceiling blankly. Ron tried not to think about anything…

But then, for fuck's sake, the door opened again. Ron wished everyone would just leave him alone so that he could try and pass out from the pain and exhaustion in peace. Once he was out, they could do whatever the hell they wanted. He just wanted it to end…

But when he heard the voice of the intruder, his heart leapt. Despite his probably pathetic appearance, laying on his side in the middle of the bed with sweat on his face and tears in his eyes, he had never been happier to see anyone else in his seventeen years.

"Ron," Harry said, sounding shocked. Ron hoped to god he hadn't heard what had happened to him. He hoped nobody knew, but it was becoming apparent that the whole house was aware, at least the Death Eaters. Fenrir was probably gloating about his 'tight arse' to anyone who would listen. Ron felt embarrassed as he thought of if the news got to his family somehow…no one would look at him the same again…

"Harry," Ron said in an exhausted yet relieved voice. He recognized his best friend's vocal chords anywhere after all these years.

"Christ," he heard Harry saw lowly. He sounded furious. So, he _did_ know, then…

Ron felt Harry sit on the bed next to him. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. What c_ould_ he say? Then a thought popped into his head as he realized where Harry had probably just come from.

"You okay?" Ron asked shakily. Both of them…both of them had been given away like this. He wondered if Malfoy had been as unforgiving as Greyback had. At least he wasn't quite as powerful…he could only hope Harry's experience was better than his own.

"Yeah," Harry said. He spoke softly, like he was afraid to be too loud in Ron's presence. That just made him feel worse. Did he look that bad?

He felt Harry reach over to him, and Ron stiffened. He felt the hand gently touch his neck, calloused fingers from Quidditch and fighting grazing against the bruised skin. He probably had bruises around it due to Greyback 'playing' with him while he fucked him. Not to mention the obvious bite marks he had probably received. Harry was probably pitying him right now, which he didn't need. Harry's hand moved to Ron's hip, pushing the fabric of his jeans and shirt away slightly, causing Ron to tense again.

He saw Harry immediately pull away awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do.

"Are you…okay?" Harry's tentative voice said.

"Yeah," Ron said, a little too quickly. He heard Harry sigh sadly, then he felt the weight of him lying down beside him on the bed.

Too tired to protest, Ron just lay there as he felt Harry's arm wrap around him from behind in a hug.

He heard a sniffle, and realized Harry was crying. Was he crying for his sake, or from his own experience? Hearing Harry's quiet ragged breathing as his tears fell, Ron couldn't help himself either. For what felt like the millionth time, tears streamed down his own cheeks again, staining the blanket beneath the two boys.

They both lay there on top of the covers, crying silently into the darkness. Ron couldn't help but feel comforted instead of awkward anymore. Sure, they never hugged like this before, and he didn't think he had ever seen Harry cry this raw before either, but they had good reason to. Both knew what the other had faced, and Ron couldn't help but feel sorry for Harry more than himself. Yes, he had been forcibly fucked into the bed like some toy without feelings, like something inhuman, but it hadn't been by someone they had seen on multiple occasions. Someone they had talked to and interacted with multiple times, someone they had _lived_ with. Ron was able to emotionally distance himself from Greyback because he was Greyback, a cruel monster bent on watching the world burn. Malfoy was a bit more human and a bit more grounded in Harry's life. Ron wanted to kill the blonde git.

But then, he had been the one to ease Ron's discomfort, if only slightly, after he had been brutally taken by Greyback. He had covered Ron back up and untied him. It only confused him more, however. Anyone who wanted to really help would have healed his wounds and broken him out of this nightmarish place, not left him here for Greyback to have over and over again.

And also, why was Harry here? Ron would think that, had they been taken prisoner and used as some sort of twisted sex puppets, their captors wouldn't give a nargle's arse if they wanted the small luxury of seeing each other. It would give them comfort, which was what the Death Eaters had been working against since they started hunting them in the first place.

Ron was tired of pondering things, tired of thinking. Tired from being tortured and fucked like the prisoner he was. With Harry here, clutching at him like he was a dying man, Ron felt safer than he had in the past few hours. But he knew if Harry stayed…

"He might come back," Ron said quietly. Harry's grip around his torso tightened.

"He won't, not until tomorrow," he heard Harry say.

"Yeah but," Ron swallowed, mouth dry from crying so much. "I don't want you here if he does. He…you don't want to be here."

Harry buried his forehead in the back of Ron's neck, making him feel sad. He desperately didn't want him to go, but he also didn't want him to stay and find out what Fenrir's wrath was like.

"I don't fucking care," he heard his best friend say harshly. He heard a small sob at the end of the statement, making Ron's heart break.

"Okay," Ron said barely audibly. He felt the wetness of tears on the back of his neck.

They lay there in silence a long time, just breathing. Ron was either too tired to cry anymore or had run out of tears, because he realized that his cheeks were finally starting to dry. His mind was blissfully blank for a while, simply feeling the heat of the body behind him. That is, until Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry," Harry burst out, crying hard. Ron was startled. He had never heard him so upset.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking around.

"I got us caught, even after you warned me! God, this is all my fault, and now you're – " Harry broke off, probably not wanting to say it. He buried his head into Ron's neck again, still muttering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again.

"Harry, it's okay," Ron said with as much energy as he could muster. "I know it was just an accident. And it's not your fault, it's that fuck Greyback's fault."

Harry hugged Ron closer. Ron felt terrible. He didn't want Harry blaming himself now. While he did agree that them being captured was Harry's fault (he felt it unwise to mention, however), he knew it was a slip up. Harry had been the only one to say Voldemort's actual name until a couple years ago. Also, there was no way any of them saw this coming. The Death Eaters always seemed to stoop to new lows.

"I just – "

"Harry," Ron said firmly, "you can't go blaming yourself for this. Now shut the fuck up."

He heard Harry laugh slightly and smiled.

* * *

><p>Ron didn't know how soon after that he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he didn't feel Harry's arm around him anymore. He looked around quickly, but yelped, bringing a hand up to his throat. It hurt so bad…<p>

No Harry.

Ron cursed into the silent room. He was utterly alone and didn't even know what time it was, or how much time he had left until Greyback would come back. With several minutes of mental preparation, Ron moved. He hissed in pain as his body ached. His arse, hips, back, neck, and arms all screamed at him to lie back down and remain motionless, but he had to attempt to find Harry at least. If that fuck had taken him back and was doing things to him again…

Ron growled and stood up, grunting as he did. Oh, the pain. He moved slowly over to what appeared to be a mirror, and looked into it to see the damage.

Good lord. No wonder Harry had been acting so weird. Ron didn't doubt that the shadows had hidden his appearance somewhat, but even that would have looked bad. With a groan, Ron leaned forward to inspect his neck.

A large purple bruise had formed in a half-ring around the front of his neck, and Ron noticed it looked horribly like a handprint. There were also several red marks, and one shallow puncture wound on the far back-right side of his throat that was the ragged shape of a crescent, forming to fit Greyback's sharp teeth. He felt the skin around his hips being extremely sensitive to the fabric of his jeans and turned sideways, brushing the fabric away momentarily to inspect it. Another bruise greeted him, and, as he put his hand up to it, he realized he could make out five distinct fingers and a palm perfectly. Christ, how hard had Greyback held him?

There was an identical one on the other side of his body as well.

Feeling sick, Ron pulled his trousers back up and straightened his shirt again.

"Nice arse, Weasley."

Ron whipped around at the drawl he heard from the doorway. His blue eyes narrowed as they made contact with pale grey ones.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked darkly.

"He's in my room. Sleeping. I think I wore him out," Malfoy said, smug.

"You're sick," Ron said quietly, turning away from the person who had violated his best friend.

"Don't worry, I made sure he enjoyed himself."

Ron saw Malfoy analyzing his fingernails nonchalantly in the mirror. He didn't want to hear this.

"Why are you here?" Ron said, his voice rising in volume. He turned to face him again. "Isn't it enough to know that me and Harry are completely miserable? It's what you wanted, right? It's what you've always bloody wanted. Well, I hope you're fucking happy."

Malfoy took a defensive stance.

"Hey Weasley, I didn't ask for this to happen."

"Bull shit! You're the one who _made_ it happen, you fucking moron. You lied about Harry being someone else, yeah, but I saw your little conversation with daddy. That's why Greyback got it in his own head to – "

Ron broke off, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well I didn't mean for _that_ to happen," Malfoy shouted back, his pale face coloring a bit.

"Oh, okay, so just fucking Harry is alright then," Ron spat angrily. "You're such a git, Malfoy, all you fucking think about is yourself!"

Malfoy didn't retort, which surprised Ron slightly. He never let anybody have the last word but himself.

Ron panted for a few moments after his tirade, his blood boiling.

"You know what the sad thing is?" Ron continued angrily, yet quieter. "If you hadn't been such a horrible person to him and everybody else for six years, he might even have liked you. But instead, you torture him all through school, and then do _this_. Nice wooing there, you fuck."

Malfoy looked as though Ron had slapped him. Then his look turned furious, and Ron thought he saw the blush return to his pale face.

"Greyback's here," the blonde said simply, and left.

* * *

><p>The events had begun nearly identically to last night's. Forced oral sex followed by a struggle to make Ron swallow the product of Greyback's orgasm, then he tied and held Ron down, and fucked him. However, it seemed ten times worse due to the injuries Ron still had, and his whole body wracked with pain as he was thrust into repeatedly. He had screamed himself hoarse much faster than yesterday.<p>

"Uhn! Ah!" Ron shouted at the ceiling. He was on his back this time, Greyback bent over him in a cruel imitation of intimacy. His hands roughly held Ron's bruised hips as he pounded mercilessly into his arse.

Ron couldn't do anything to defend himself due to his hands being bound, not behind his back, but above him, to opposite ends of the headboard. They clenched and unclenched at the ropes around his wrists helplessly.

He was also, this time, completely bare of any clothing. He had been entirely embarrassed as Greyback removed his clothes quickly, while leaving his on like last time. Humiliation and pain radiated through Ron so strongly that he thought for sure he would go mad. He had been screaming incoherently for at least an hour under this monster, who had come once already, possibly twice, Ron wasn't sure. He wished Greyback would finish, he didn't know how much more he could take…

Growls escaped the man as he bit down on Ron's neck again, making him whine from the stinging pain. His abused arse was raw, and he didn't know which part of his body to concentrate on more. Sweat glistened all over him from the exertion of being pumped in and out of so violently and from struggling against his restraints.

"Oh yeah, you like that, don't you?" Greyback said huskily, looking down at his victim.

"N-no!" Ron managed to cry out breathlessly, throwing his head back as he felt a particularly violent thrust.

"What was that?" Greyback said, pounding hard again. Ron shouted in pain.

"Fuck you!" Ron screamed into the room, eyes closed tight and knowing he would regret it.

The man growled angrily and grabbed Ron's shoulders. He fucked him extremely hard, making Ron cry out each time he pushed in. His hips hurt from being slammed into. It was torturous and long, but finally, with a particularly loud growl, the man came again and Ron felt the familiar warmth spread inside him, killing his insides. He felt it leak out of him as Greyback pulled out, feeling disgusted. It was sticky and wet, and warm.

"Fed you a little too much, eh?" Greyback said, cackling as Ron panted helplessly on the bed. His chest heaved. He let his head drop back, his body exhausted and aching. He could feel more cum leaking out of him and onto the bedspread and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling. "See you soon, pup. Do try not to miss me," he gave a barking laugh and left, zipping up his trousers as he did.

Ron sobbed hard into the empty room almost as soon as he left. He couldn't hold it in much longer. This time had been worse. Much, much worse. Longer, more painful, and much more humiliating. Sweat was on his brow and chest, and he felt his hair cling around his forehead and temples. Shaking, he tugged yet again on the ropes, earning him another throb from his aching and bleeding wrists. With any luck, his wrist would be injured enough for him to bleed out and die before tomorrow.

Chest still heaving, he heard the door open and closed his eyes. Not again…

"Weasley?"

Ron jumped, opening his eyes again. He barely had the energy to lift his head, and when he saw who it was, it flopped back down again. It was Malfoy. His mood did not improve.

"You okay?" he heard Malfoy ask. He spoke tentatively, which Ron didn't think he had ever heard before.

But Ron didn't think he could even speak. His voice was probably shot, and he was too tired anyway. All he could do was lay there flat on his back and breathe heavily into the air above him.

"Weasley?" Malfoy asked quickly. His voice seemed strained then.

"Uhn," Ron tried to form a coherent word, but all he gave was a small noise. He wished he had some water…

He heard movement and looked over to see Malfoy beside the bed. He reached up to one of Ron's hands and untied it from the headboard. It fell beside him, and he felt Malfoy do the same with the other. Ron felt relieved, and didn't even care that it was Malfoy helping him again. His sore body rejoiced in the painful ropes being gone.

Malfoy sighed and whipped out his wand, looking nervously at the door. He pointed it at the doorway and it swung shut and sealed. Then he turned to Ron, whose breath was finally slowing to a normal pace, and he realized just how naked he was. He wished Malfoy would quit staring…

"Weasley, I'm…I'll try and heal you first, alright?"

Ron looked up at him, confused and tired. He didn't really want Malfoy roaming his naked body, but the thought of sweet relief was so appealing. Also, he wouldn't have been able to move much, even if he tried, let alone prevent Malfoy from doing anything.

"Here," Ron felt an arm around his waist and he was dragged over to the blonde. He whimpered, feeling the pain in his nether regions intensify with movement. Malfoy flipped him over gingerly and Ron felt completely exposed.

As if he wasn't humiliated enough.

He let his tear-stained cheek rest on the pillow of the bed, not caring anymore. He was ready to pass out anyways…

He thought he heard a sharp intake of breath from Malfoy, as though he was surprised, as he moved down the side of the bed. He wondered how bad he looked. A cooling sensation made itself known around Ron's arse, and he realized that Malfoy had siphoned away the blood. Then a warm feeling replaced it as his arse was healed. He wasn't surprised, he had felt as though he were ripped freshly in half again as Greyback thrust into him for the first time today. It didn't stop him from being embarrassed though. While Greyback had seen him naked and done unspeakable things, Malfoy was his own age and a former classmate. Not to mention it made him uncomfortable to be looked over so thoroughly by his enemy.

He felt the tap of a wand near his wrists, and the rope-cut skin knitted together and healed over, leaving only bruises. With an arm around Ron's waist again, he turned him over to lay on his back once more. He put his head back onto the pillow, sighing. Malfoy pushed his cheek, making him turn his head, and he felt two bloody crescents Greyback had given him on his exposed neck cool and sloppily knit together as well.

"Okay," Malfoy said, more to himself than to Ron.

He shuffled around out of Ron's line of vision and reappeared, holding the same jeans Ron had worn for two days now and his dark blue shirt. He lay motionless, still exhausted. He wondered briefly why Malfoy was doing this when, only a few hours ago, he had called him a selfish git. An arm eased Ron up into a sitting position, making him feel very dizzy. He wobbled, but remained upright with the help of the pale arm around him. He clutched at Malfoy's sleeve, not wanting to fall back.

His shirt was pulled over his head, and his jeans and boxers over his legs. Ron felt like a child that still didn't know how to dress himself. He moved gingerly, still feeling pain in his arse, but much less so than before. He probably wouldn't have been able to walk if he had been left as he was. He was able to pull his own arms through his sleeves and do the clasp on his jeans himself, and looked up at Malfoy of his own accord, some of his energy returning.

"Thanks," Ron said quietly. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Yeah," Malfoy said, looking away. He seemed embarrassed.

"Do you have any…" Ron trailed off shakily, making a drinking motion with his hand.

Malfoy looked stunned for a moment.

"Have they…have they not fed you yet?" he asked, blonde eyebrows drawing together.

Ron shook his head. Were they supposed to?

The fair-haired boy frowned, looking at the wall opposite him.

"I'll, er, send up an elf," Malfoy said awkwardly, then left.

Alright then…


	2. Chapter 2

The elf never came, but Ron didn't think he would have been able to eat anyways. He felt sick. After Malfoy had left, Ron had noticed that his jeans felt uncomfortably tight, and with horror, looked down to find that he was half-hard. Greyback had always ignored Ron's cock both times he had had his way with him, which Ron was thankful for. But this time he had been left slightly aroused? He felt ashamed for his body reacting in such a way. What was he, some sort of sick masochist? Did he get off on being tortured?

Thus, his stomach growled, but he felt no desire to eat.

He curled up on the bed, willing his penis to shut the fuck up and calm down. He soon closed his eyes and fell asleep, too tired to carry on with his thoughts. He was so thirsty…

Ron stirred awake. He didn't know how long he had been out. Lying on his stomach, arms thrown haphazardly at weird angles, he lifted his head. What had woken him up, anyway? Looking to the table beside the bed, he saw a glass of water.

He snatched it up quickly, tipping it to his mouth. Thank god…

Ron finished the water quickly and set the glass down with a _clink_. He flopped back onto his stomach on the bed, burying his face into the pillow. He had just slept, yet he still felt so tired…

Then he heard rustling behind him in the doorway, and he turned his head to see who it was. _Please don't be Greyback_, Ron pleaded silently.

It wasn't. Malfoy stood again in the doorway, leaning on the frame and looking at him with a weird expression.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

Malfoy didn't say anything. He seemed to be thinking, quite deeply apparently.

"What's up?" Ron tried again. He was twisted slightly on his stomach in order to look back at the door, his knees bent and legs splayed weirdly. Lying on his back hurt too much…

Then, Malfoy moved silently forward, apparently having made a decision.

"Er, hello?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Malfoy got onto the bed. Ron panicked, wondering what the hell was going on. He never got a break, did he?

Malfoy reached Ron, hovering over him, and pulled him up backwards so that he was on his knees while his back touched the blonde's chest. Ron could hear his breathing, which was a little too fast for his liking. He knew what that type of breathing usually brought for him, and his eyes widened when he felt Malfoy fumbling on the button of his jeans.

"W-what are you doing?" Ron asked incredulously. He had thought Malfoy was trying to help him. He guessed he should have known better.

"Being un-selfish, for once," Malfoy said into his ear. The button had come undone.

"S-stop!" Ron said, closing his eyes tightly and trying to swat Malfoy's hand away.

But Malfoy shushed him and nibbled at his ear, making Ron shudder. The zipper to his jeans lowered. He felt somewhat betrayed, which was a surprise to him. He knew he should never have trusted Malfoy. Even though he healed Ron after Greyback's assault, he knew the git never did anything for anyone but himself, and Ron had forgotten that…

He supposed he would have to pay the price now for his ignorance.

Ron felt Malfoy's hand push into his jeans and under his boxers, wrapping around his cock. He was limp, but Malfoy breathing into his ear and touching him gave Ron a dangerous sensation below, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to go away. On his knees on the bed, with Malfoy holding Ron against him by the torso, he was too tired to fight back. Plus, he knew it wouldn't bring him any better circumstances anyway, probably just piss him off and make it worse.

Malfoy began to stroke him firmly. Ron's breath hitched as he felt himself harden. God, how embarrassing that the blonde git was able to do this to him…

Malfoy's breath quickened. Ron could only sit there while he was fondled, feeling weird and helpless. Why didn't Malfoy just push him down and get it over with? Why was he taking such care to make sure Ron was hard too? Probably to embarrass him more at having enjoyed it, he thought. He tried to fight the tingling in his dick, too stubborn to let Malfoy embarrass him like this.

But he couldn't help himself. As Malfoy's talented hand played with him, Ron started panting, feeling the pressure that had built for a few weeks now. Not to mention, he had just fought down an erection not long ago. He leaned his head back slightly and moaned, giving up and enjoying the sensation. It had been a while since he had done this himself, after all. That bloody tent was too close quarters for stuff like 'needs' being taken care of.

Ron felt Malfoy's other hand move from his chest up to his mouth, and two fingers prodded at Ron's lips. He lifted his head and opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was doing, but Malfoy stuck the fingers past his open lips. They played along his tongue, and Ron moaned around them as Malfoy gave a particularly hard squeeze to his cock. He thought he heard the blonde's breath falter too, as though he were enjoying it as well. Malfoy's slim fingers, now wet with saliva, exited Ron's mouth again and disappeared behind him.

He wondered briefly where they went, before he felt Malfoy's other hand entering his jeans. This time the back, however.

"Wait – " Ron started, but he finished with a whimper as he felt both digits enter him from behind. He was still a bit sore, healing spells or no.

He wondered what the hell Malfoy was doing _that_ for. Needless to say, it was an even bigger violation of his personal space than grabbing his cock and yanking on it was. But as Malfoy pushed them in and out, he thought he could feel the blonde's hips gently rutting against his jean-clad arse. Ron wondered why he seemed to be turned on by this so much. He could feel Malfoy's breath fast on his neck, and his confusion increased when the other boy started open-mouth kissing the skin there, sucking and licking it like it was his last meal.

"Uhn!" Ron said loudly, feeling the fingers graze something. It caused him to convulse slightly, but it felt…really good.

Ron gasped again as Malfoy's fingers struck that same spot. He began panting hard, unable to stop himself from thrusting his hips into Malfoy's hand as he stroked him and kept hitting that spot, sending jolts of pleasure through Ron's body. Ron let his head drop back onto Malfoy's shoulder again, moaning. He felt like he was practically asking for it now. But damn, it felt good to be pleasured like this. For once, someone was thinking of _his _arousal.

"Oh…" Ron whined, turning his head to the side. He could feel it building up.

Malfoy bit down on his ear again, thrusting his fingers harder against that spot. He stroked Ron faster and harder, Ron still pushing slightly into his hand unintentionally. He clutched at the robes' silky fabric on Malfoy's thigh behind him, trying to ground himself.

"Oh god!" Ron cried breathlessly. He came into Malfoy's hand, who continued to stroke him through his orgasm as Ron panted heavily. He threw his head back while he climaxed, and spots appeared before his vision. His hand clenched harder on Malfoy's leg. When it was over, both boys sat there on their knees, one a bit more shaky than the other.

Malfoy's breath was a bit ragged, Ron could feel it against his neck still. As he leaned back against the blonde, reveling in the aftershock, Malfoy shifted uncomfortably beneath him and he could feel his arousal poking him in the back.

Then, Malfoy kissed him, underneath the single small curl of red hair that formed at the nape of Ron's neck, which puzzled him. It almost felt genuinely like Malfoy was trying to…care for him…in a weird, twisted, Malfoy-ish way, that is.

As his mind wandered lazily, Ron realized that, now that he had come, Malfoy wasn't doing anything more to him. His red eyebrows drew closer together, unseen by the blonde. He could definitely feel a hard-on pressing into his back, so why wasn't Malfoy holding him down and fucking him like he probably did to poor Harry on a regular basis?

Harry. Why _was_ Malfoy here, anyway? Didn't he have his own perfectly fit slave to torture? Did he really need both? Plus, Ron had always thought that Malfoy hated his red hair, freckle-sprinkled cheeks, and his height. He supposed now the blonde was as tall as he was himself, now that he thought about it. He was just used to being taller than Harry and Hermione. But still, why come bother _him_? Ron mentally snorted as he realized that he hadn't been all that 'bothered', really. Yet.

He felt Malfoy lower him down onto the bed on his stomach again and felt his weight disappear altogether. He was leaving?

"Wait," Ron said, twisting around again. He noticed his trousers were cum-free. Malfoy must have siphoned it off. "What was that for?"

Malfoy seemed to hesitate.

"I don't know," he said with a blank expression. Then he turned and left, sealing the door as he did.

Ron slowly put his head back down on the pillow and wrapped his arms around it. What the hell was going on?

* * *

><p>Greyback hadn't been to see him at all for two days. Ron was in a constant state of panic, wondering when he would get back from whatever he was doing. He hoped Malfoy would warn him when he did, like last time (though it had barely been a warning, since Greyback had showed up in the room to torture Ron about five minutes after he had found out he was in the house). Ron hated feeling so helpless and scared, but his sessions with Greyback were brutal. He wondered how many times he would have to endure the beast's assaults before he went mad, was killed, or committed suicide. The madness seemed the closest thing, what with him constantly on edge.<p>

But Harry had come to visit him both days. It seemed that Harry visiting was his sign that Greyback wouldn't be there for the day, which made sense. If Greyback came in and saw them together, he would probably try and take advantage of Harry too, and Ron knew enough about Malfoy now to know he wouldn't want anybody dealing with Greyback attacking them. He was unable to stop him from attacking Ron, it seemed, but he could prevent him getting at Harry since he was technically 'his' prisoner now.

And Ron felt oddly happy about that. He knew he hated being Greyback's plaything, but he wouldn't wish it on anybody else, especially his best friend. In a weird way, he was glad it was him and not Harry. Plus, Malfoy seemed to take very good care of Harry, because Ron never saw any bruises anywhere, except for maybe a few hickeys on his neck. He knew because he had checked to make sure, peaking at Harry every time his shirt rode up or when he unbuttoned his collar when the room got stuffy. It was a lot better treatment than Ron had received, that was for sure.

Apparently, Greyback still had an influence on Ron however, even when he wasn't there. His rumbling stomach had started to bother him after a while, and he had wondered where that bloody house-elf was that Malfoy had promised. It was only when Harry had come in to sleep with him in the room for the first night (courtesy of Malfoy's good graces) and snuck him some food that he was informed of Greyback's new sick game.

"He said not to give you anything," Harry had said apologetically, handing Ron some grapes, bread, and an apple. Ron loved apples.

"Wha'?" Ron said through his bread.

"Apparently Greyback ordered them not to feed you. According to Draco, anyway."

Ron looked up, sickened at how he could still be tortured even when the beast wasn't here. Then he latched onto the last part of Harry's statement.

"_Draco?_"

"I mean, Malfoy," Harry said, picking at his fingernails.

Then, there had been no sign of the werewolf, apart from his food ban for Ron. So he had enjoyed the company of his best friend during the nights, who always snuck him something to eat. It seemed almost like they were back at Hogwarts, laughing and joking together in the dorms. But whenever Ron woke up in the mornings, Harry was always gone. He didn't need to guess where he went, or why.

It was halfway through the day, Ron guessed by the window, and he was lying on the bed, throwing a rubber ball Malfoy had given him as a form of entertainment. He also had a book that he had found under the bed, but it didn't give him much comfort, since it was filled with dark spells and their gruesome side-effects. Plus, he didn't have a wand, so he couldn't even fantasize about using them on Greyback the next that lunatic tried to touch him.

_Calunk. Calunk. Calunk._

The ball bounced on the ceiling, then flew at an angle to the wall, and back to Ron each time he threw it. Being Gryffindor keeper, one had to have good aim when throwing the Quaffle back to your own teammates after a save. Harry's relentless drills made him good with that. It seemed as though they would spend hours, Harry zooming around the pitch at top-speed, and Ron would have to try and pass to him from his position at the goal posts while Harry flew in erratic patterns to try and throw him off. They had done this for weeks until Ron could hit him dead on from clear across the pitch. Harry had been so proud. Ron had more liked the results it gave to his own arm and shoulder muscles, personally.

Although Fred and George had teased him mercilessly the next time he saw them, calling him 'ripped', he was able to beat both of them in an arm wrestle. At the same time.

Ron supposed it was that vanity that got him in this horrible situation. That, or his 'pretty arse'.

"God, I need to stop thinking about…anything," he muttered to himself, throwing the ball rather violently this time.

He wondered where Harry was. Usually he was here to sneak him some form of fruit for lunch, but the doorway had remained sealed and empty. That is, until a sucking noise signaled the reversal of the sealing spell, and it swung open.

Ron grunted as his violently thrown ball bounced back and hit him in the stomach when he looked over.

"I was wondering where – oh," Ron said, realizing who it was. He was unsure how to act in Malfoy's presence now, ever since his…last encounter. He watched as the pure-blonde head preceded a body, which walked in and stood at the foot of Ron's bed.

"Hello Weasley," he smirked. Ron knew from this immediately that something bad was going to happen. He looked too menacing for another friendly hand-job.

"What do you want to do to me now?" Ron asked nervously.

"Oh, _I_ won't be doing anything," Malfoy said. He had a tone.

"Is he back?" Ron asked quickly. He sat bolt upright and clutched the ball in his hand almost painfully tight. He had been having such a nice break from Greyback.

"No…"

Ron let his shoulders drop again and un-clenched his hand. But then he realized that Malfoy was still up to something, and since Greyback wasn't here, it could only involve him doing probably more unwanted sexual favors, just for the blonde git instead.

"What." Ron said exasperatedly. It was more of a statement than a question. "Just say it."

"I've been getting a bit bored, and I figured, why not add a little variety," Malfoy said through a sneer.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I _mean_," Malfoy said, treacherously slow, "Potter's been getting the same treatment for a few days now. While I'm sure _he's_ not bored with _me_, _I'm_ a bit bored, so I'd like a bit of a show."

"What…what are you saying?" Ron narrowed his eyes. A horrible conclusion was forming in his own mind already…

"I think you know, Weasley," Malfoy sneered. "I want you to show Potter a good time."

His narrowed eyes flew open.

"W-what?" Ron shouted, panic laced through his voice. Malfoy just smirked harder.

"You. Potter. My bed."

"You're sick," Ron said incredulously, scooting backward on the bed away from the fair-haired demon. He couldn't do that to Harry, he just…couldn't. Harry was his best friend. Sure, they had been through a lot together, and Ron was secure enough in his manhood to admit that Harry was a good-looking bloke. He wasn't stupid. Ron knew it was more than the fame status and scar that brought the girls running in mobs for his best friend (his sister apparently one of them). But he couldn't make Harry do something like that just so this insane psycho, who Ron was beginning to see as just such, could watch. Harry had already been through enough shit to last several people a lifetime. 'Rape from your best friend' didn't need to be added to the list.

"Like hell I will you lunatic!" Ron yelled. He chucked the ball as hard as he could at Malfoy, which hit him square in the chest. The blonde winced, but otherwise had no reaction.

"Oh, I think you will, Weasley," Malfoy said lowly. "Otherwise, I may have to report that my prisoner's concealment charms just wore off, and everyone would be very surprised at whose appearance they'd been hiding…"

Ron looked on in horror.

"I – you – why do you even want – ?" Ron couldn't find the words, but Malfoy got the message.

"Because, I thought it would be hot," he said, shrugging.

Ron couldn't stop himself from gaping at him. Who was this person in front of him?

"You thought watching me and Harry go at it would be _hot_?" Ron said. It sounded even less believable when he said it. The boy who had always taunted them, hexed them at any chance, and hated them both equally for years, now thought that watching his two worst school enemies shag would be hot.

"Yeah."

Ron sat there stunned on the bed, not knowing what to do. If he refused, Malfoy would tell the Death Eaters about Harry. If he did it, Harry would be emotionally scarred for life, and (if they ever got out of here) neither of them would be able to look at each other the same again. He dropped his head to his hands and kneaded at his forehead. The obvious choice would be the one that kept the savior of the Wizarding World alive the longest. He just didn't know how _alive_ Harry would feel after it.

"Why are you doing this?" Ron asked in a defeated voice.

"I told you, because I was bored," Malfoy said, shrugging again.

"What – what do I have to do to him?" He couldn't believe he was asking this.

"You know what," Malfoy said exasperatedly. "Entertain him sexually. There, spelled out enough for you?"

"No, I mean," Ron swallowed, blushing now, "I…I don't know how…to…"

"Oh."

* * *

><p>Ron walked down the hall, blushing profusely. He had just engaged in the most awkward conversation in his entire life, with his enemy nonetheless. It was worse than the one he had had with his own mother years ago, about 'regular' sex. At least in that one he had been a willing participant in the activities described, and had had a theoretical equally willing partner as well. But no. Malfoy had just informed him on the most expert techniques he would need to use in order to rape yet sexually pleasure his male best friend of seven years. Something called a prostate was involved, and Ron just realized, as he walked in the gloomy hallway to his mental undoing, that Malfoy must have been utilizing that particular body part while he had been pleasuring <em>him<em> not days ago. Good. Lord.

"I can't do this," Ron said, turning back to face Malfoy. He stopped their movement and threw his back against the wall, covering his face with his hand in shame at what he was about to do.

"Oh, come on Weasley," Malfoy said, exasperated. "It's not as though he won't like it."

"How do you fucking know?" Ron spat, tearing his hand away to glare at the blonde devil incarnate. "He's gonna hate me for the rest of his life. I'm supposed to be his best friend. He'll never be able to shag again," Ron added in horror. He was ruining his friend's sex life forever.

"Shut. Up." Malfoy said firmly. "He'll be bloody fine. He was fine when I did it," he added smugly.

"Which is a miracle," Ron said with venom in every word.

"Shut up," Malfoy said again furiously. "Do it."

He prodded at Ron with his wand as a warning. Ron had no choice.

Reluctantly, he continued down the hallway at wand-point, wishing he was anywhere else right now. He would take another round with Greyback rather than ruin Harry's life further. Harry was running out of people to trust, and his best friend doing _this_ only took another person off the severely short list.

Malfoy unsealed the door to Harry's prison. Or Malfoy's bedroom, whichever way one looked at it.

Ron couldn't help but notice, though bitterly, that the room was really well decorated. It had green everything (_Of course,_ Ron thought), and several rich-person things that Ron supposed were very important if you had Galleons pouring out your arse every time you sneezed. It also contained an innocent looking Harry Potter, who was lying on his back with his arms tucked comfortably behind his head. Ron saw that Malfoy had only been half-kidding about the concealment charms having worn off. Harry was back to looking like his old self, black hair and green eyes, though minus the glasses still. It only made his eyes stand out more, wide and innocent as they were.

"Oh, _finally _you git," Harry said, obviously hearing the door open. "I've been waiting for hours. I need to go see Ron, because he's probably starving – oh, hi," Harry added sheepishly when he saw that they were both in the room. He smiled at Ron in an embarrassed way.

Ron felt numb. Harry had been waiting, doing nothing to pass the time, worrying about him and his stupid stomach. He seriously felt like he was going to cry, because of his stupid, naïve best friend, who was too nice and innocent for his own damn good.

Malfoy smirked, looking evilly down at the poor, unsuspecting victim.

"Oh, I think he'll have enough to eat. Please Weasley, help yourself to what looks good," Malfoy said nonchalantly. He gestured vaguely in Harry's direction, which the raven-haired boy missed.

Ron glared, hating every bloody cell in that git's body.

"So, what, is Ron staying in here tonight or something?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows slightly.

Ron fidgeted.

Malfoy smirked.

Harry looked between the two, clearly puzzled.

"Weasley will be spending a short time with us today," Malfoy said in his aristocratic voice. Then he snickered slightly. "Or perhaps a long time, it depends. I thought you may enjoy his…company for the evening."

Ron closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand again. Oh, the shame…

"What?" Harry said, still looking confused.

"Weasley, upon my request, will be substituting for me today. Just to…shake things up a bit, I suppose," Malfoy laughed lightly.

Harry's green eyes widened slightly. He stared at Malfoy incredulously for a moment, then looked away quickly, staring at the floor. Ron thought he could see a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Well Weasley, go on. He doesn't bite," Malfoy said, smirking. "That's usually me."

"Shut up!" Ron spat at the blonde. He didn't need to hear it, and he knew it was only embarrassing Harry more since his blush seemed to be increasing in intensity.

Sighing, hating himself, and wishing that whatever entity that was watching over him would just take mercy and smite him now, Ron moved over to the side of the bed that Harry was laying on. He stood there awkwardly, looking down at his best friend, still raised on his elbows.

"Do you…do you know what's going on?" Ron asked Harry quietly, hoping the blonde couldn't hear him.

"Yeah," Harry said, now looking at the wall opposite him, cheeks still tinged pink.

"Is it okay?" Ron muttered. Not that he had a choice, for he would hold him down through the whole thing if he had to rather than let Harry die, but he thought asking permission would be…polite, he guessed. Better than just going at it. "I'll be…you know…" Ron sighed and covered his eyes with a hand yet again. He couldn't say it.

"Yeah," Harry said again. He looked up, big emerald eyes looking up into ice-blue ones. "It's okay."

He was taking this surprisingly well.

Ron nodded. He couldn't find any other way to stall.

He was sure of one thing at least that Malfoy had no control over. He would make sure that Harry was completely taken care of, and not hurt at all. He didn't want to become the monster Greyback did, using his body as a weapon. Ron silently vowed to make Harry feel as good as possible, despite how much he may hate himself for doing this. He knew this one thing: Harry would be put before himself.

So Ron got onto the bed. He could see Malfoy sit in one of the lounge chairs (_seriously, who has fucking lounge chairs in their bedroom? _Ron thought briefly) that occupied the area across the room.

Not really knowing how to start, Ron put one leg over Harry so that he was sitting on top of his thighs, straddling him. He reached for the button on Harry's trousers.

"Uh-uh Weasley," Ron heard the infuriating voice of Malfoy across the room. The blonde shook his finger. "The _whole_ kit."

Ron gritted his teeth. He reached around Harry's torso, pulling him up slightly, and pulled the shirt up over his head a little more violently than he meant to. Then he turned and hurled the shirt across the room at Malfoy as hard as he could.

It landed in Malfoy's lap, who smirked. But it was Harry laying beneath Ron who started laughing. Ron looked down, a smirk of his own playing at his lips, as he made eye contact with Harry again.

"Yours too, Weasl – " but Malfoy was cut off as another balled-up shirt hit him square in the chest, this one blue with a tiny gold embroidered 'R' on the shoulder.

Harry was laughing harder now, and he lay his head back as he chuckled appreciatively. Ron looked back at him again, glad that they were able to be themselves, even in a situation like this. He never realized how much he liked to hear that laugh. It seemed he was one of the few people who could bring it out of its hiding place.

So here he sat, staring at his friend, both of them shirtless. He shifted slightly forward, up Harry's thighs, when he felt it. And by the way Harry looked up at him this time, with something close to fear, he must have known he had felt it. Harry was hard.

Ron looked down at him, puzzled. Harry hadn't been when they had entered the room only moments ago, which meant that this was no random bout of randiness that had been brought on from sitting alone with nothing to do. There hadn't been the obvious bulge in his jeans that Ron saw now, anyway. Ron hadn't even really been near Harry's crotch at all while he had been moving around, throwing shirts, so it wasn't due to friction. He had just been sitting in Harry's line of vision, shirtless, looking pissed at Malfoy. This only meant one thing.

Harry was…into this.

Ron looked down, wondering what he had done that had been at all sexy. He didn't really see himself as a 'sexy' person in general, so he felt even more confused at Harry's arousal. Harry's blush seemed to deepen as Ron pondered this, so he did the only thing he could think to do to ease the tension.

He leaned down and touched his lips to Harry's. Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat, and Ron hoped that this was okay. He pulled back slightly, a small _smack_ sounding as their lips parted again. Ron dropped his head and felt a blush of his own mar his freckled cheeks.

"Just…just tell me to stop if you want me to stop, okay?" Ron said, looking up into those bright green eyes. He wanted Harry to know that he had as much control in this as Ron did.

Harry didn't answer, still blushing and looking so damn innocent. Ron felt a bit panicky, wondering if kissing him was too personal or something. But when he felt a hand thread through his hair at the back of his head and push him closer to Harry again, he guessed it wasn't.

Harry _wanted_ to kiss him, apparently. Ron felt a tongue this time push into his mouth, which surprised him, but he soon regained control of his mind and moved his own against it. He felt the kiss intensify as Harry got excited, and he tried to respond with equal vigor. Soon, they were tonguing each other's mouths viciously and Ron had grabbed at Harry's midnight locks as well. He felt his own hardness now, and it was almost as surprising as feeling Harry's. But he supposed if the kiss had anything to show about himself, it was that _he_ was enjoying this as well.

Ron moved his hips so that they connected with Harry's, who gasped lightly around Ron's tongue. Ron couldn't help it as he slightly pushed against Harry's jean-clad erection repeatedly, still entwined at the mouth. He could hear and feel Harry moaning into his mouth as he was further aroused. Ron supposed he should have been embarrassed, humping the person beneath him like some horny teenager. But he _was_ a teenager, and he was now horny. So was the boy beneath him, who had long since given his permission by spreading his legs and tucking them at Ron's sides to allow him access.

Ron reached down to the buttons on Harry's jeans, knowing that they both wanted more than what had already transpired. But he stopped when he felt the three buttons in succession, and pulled his mouth away from Harry's briefly, realizing something. Both boys were breathing heavily now and flushed, but Ron grinned slightly.

"Are these mine?" Ron said, tugging at the waist of the jeans. Harry looked surprised for a moment before he smiled sheepishly.

"Er, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head.

Ron laughed before kissing Harry again. Sometimes in the wilderness he and Harry would share clothes, both being equally unorganized and leaving them strewn about. They were roughly the same size, except for Harry being shorter than he was. But now that he thought about it, Harry seemed to wear his clothes a lot more than he wore Harry's, even if they were too long in the legs sometimes. Recalling this, he couldn't help feeling that the awkwardness about this situation had lessened considerably. He had almost forgotten Draco was watching.

Harry continued to battle with Ron's tongue while Ron reached for his jeans again. He undid the three buttons quickly, having worn the trousers several times himself, and began to slide them and those boxer-thingies down Harry's hips. Harry was doing _wonderful_ things to his tongue, which made him wiggle the jeans off in a cramped space, for he didn't want to break the kiss again. Harry was now completely naked, and Ron reached for the clasp of his own jeans as he felt Harry's other hand rest on the back of his neck, tugging slightly at the single red curl there. Harry nipped at Ron's bottom lip and sucked it, making Ron groan in anticipation as he removed his own trousers. Two years on a broomstick had given him the ability to be graceful in more actions than he had realized he would need, one of which included taking off your own jeans while snogging on a bed without even breaking contact.

He then kissed along Harry's jaw line, nipping at it in a few places. He moved down to Harry's neck and sucked beneath his ear, listening to the panting teen below him. Ron smiled slightly against the skin as he moved down still, over to one of the small pink nipples that sat on the left side of the finely-toned youth's chest. He put his mouth to it and sucked on it lightly, liking how Harry tightened his grip on his hair and whimpered. As he circled his tongue around the hardening bud, Ron reached down between them and grabbed Harry, who whimpered again and stiffened his back. He slowly stroked Harry up and down, and moved his other hand down to his hip for something to grab onto. It wasn't really as though Harry needed stroking, for he was obviously hard now, but Malfoy had said to do it first, so he did. Ron then maneuvered his body downward, bringing his head down to Harry's penis, and replacing his hand with his mouth.

Harry gave a breathy sigh as Ron moved his tongue along the underside of his cock. Ron brought up one hand above him to rest on Harry's lower stomach, which Ron couldn't help notice held the happiest fucking happy trail he had ever seen. His fingers played slightly with the line of soft dark hairs there as his tongue played along Harry's dick. The noises Harry made were so erotic that Ron was having trouble keeping focused. He could vaguely remember Malfoy's description on how to prepare Harry so that he wouldn't get hurt like Ron always was when Greyback did things to him. Ron would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. This was his first willing sexual encounter, and he didn't want to cause Harry any pain or anything.

He felt a light thump next to him on the bed and saw a small vial of something. He reached for it and realized it must be the oil Malfoy was talking about, which he used on Harry as lubricant. Ron had been less than thrilled to picture the things Malfoy did to his poor best friend, much less to know what type of lube they used. Still, it was better than what he got from Greyback, which was nothing.

While still distracting Harry with his mouth and hearing the panting and whining continue above, Ron tipped the phial over his hand and coated his own erection with the substance. He had to force himself to stop stroking his own arousal with the lubricant however, which was very, very difficult as he was very, _very_ hard by now. But he didn't want to come before he had even entered Harry yet.

_That thought was a lot less scary than it would have been a few minutes ago_, Ron thought.

Slowly, and looking up to make sure the dark-haired boy was alright with this, Ron moved his slicked fingers to Harry's arse. He continued to suck around Harry's erection, but when he pushed his two fingers in, Harry definitely noticed. A whine that was more discomfort than pleasure escaped the boy above him, and Ron quickly took him deeper into his mouth to help him forget. Harry sighed with pleasure and Ron felt a hand thread through his red hair again. He could tell that Harry was trying hard to refrain from pushing his head down onto his cock, but his whimpers said he wanted more, desperately. Ron slowly moved his fingers in and out of Harry, and with his other hand, grasped Harry's hip and urged it up. Harry must have taken the hint, for he began to thrust into Ron's mouth lightly, moaning and still holding the back of his head with one hand. He seemed to be trying not to choke him, however, and it was a nice change from Greyback's usual approach, which was to deny Ron oxygen until it was absolutely necessary.

Ron looked up again to see a flushed and panting Harry, who had a slight sheen of sweat forming on his body now as he continued to fuck Ron's mouth. Ron pushed his fingers in deeper, searching for that thing –

"Ohhh," Harry whined, turning his head to the side and giving a particularly hard thrust. Ron almost gagged, but managed to control himself. Well, that must have been it.

He touched that spot again and received a small "ah!" this time.

Hoping to distract him with that, Ron touched the spot a third time and snuck in a third slick finger, trying to stretch Harry as much as he could to prepare him for what was to come. Harry didn't seem to mind it that much, however, as his light thrusting continued without falter. After a while, Ron removed his mouth and fingers gently and wandered back up Harry's body. He looked down at him, taking in the sight.

Harry was sweaty, panting, and clinging to Ron's own body, looking as though he didn't know what to do with himself. The scene of a very aroused Harry made Ron's cock almost twitch with eagerness, and it made it that much harder to go slow when Harry began sucking and nipping desperately at his neck.

"Come on," Harry whispered against his skin, almost in a way that foretold death if he didn't enter him soon.

"Are you," Ron said in a strangled voice, trying to hold onto his sanity as Harry continued with the neck stuff. "Are you alright? Not hurt or anything?"

"No," Harry breathed, starting to push his hips up so that his cock met with Ron's slickened one. "Please," he nipped Ron's neck rather forcefully.

Ron positioned himself between Harry's legs and at his entrance, wondering how on earth his cock was supposed to fit in there. It was surely too tight. Reluctantly, he pushed slowly into Harry. He almost came right there at the feeling of how tight Harry was around him as he entered, but he grit his teeth and held it back, determined to make _him_ come first. He wanted to make sure he wasn't too tired to carry it all the way out for Harry, and he wanted the dark-haired boy to enjoy this as much as he could. Harry grunted slightly and turned his head, looking somewhat uncomfortable at the intrusion. Ron leaned down and kissed him, shoving his tongue into the other boy's mouth in order to distract him. Harry responded eagerly.

When he was all the way in, Ron ran his hand through the wild black hair on top of Harry's head and continued to simply snog with him for a moment, waiting for him to adjust to the size. It was when Harry's nips at his skin became more than eager and he felt the boy beneath him wrap his legs around Ron's waist that he pulled out again about halfway and pushed back in. Harry whimpered slightly into Ron's mouth and Ron moaned as he felt the tightness enclose his erection fully again. Okay, _now_ he could see why people did this all the time…

Ron began to pick up his pace a little, and he moved one hand to the back of Harry's head, clutching black locks that went every which-way. His other hand was grabbing Harry's hip and pulling it toward him in time with his thrusts, in order for him to go as deeply inside Harry as possible.

It wasn't long before Ron found that prostate thing again, of which he had tried to memorize the whereabouts, and soon had Harry moaning along with each thrust.

"Oh!" Harry said again, writhing beneath him and throwing his head back.

The sight of it made Ron speed up. He was _so_ turned-on, he didn't think he could stop even if he wanted to.

"Harry," Ron breathed against his ear. It was the only coherent thing he could manage. Ron reached between them and stroked Harry's cock again in time with his bucking.

"Yes, Ron," Harry moaned breathlessly, urging him on as he struck his prostate again and again. His legs tightened around Ron's waist and he slammed down against each thrust Ron gave. "Oh god yes!"

His brain took on a slightly animalistic trait at this, at the tone of Harry's voice. Ron's breath came out hard and fast as he pounded into Harry's arse. The raven-haired boy's panting was equally as ragged, and Ron could feel blunt fingernails digging into the skin on his back (Harry had a well-earned nail biting habit). He grabbed Harry's arse in order to thrust more forcefully into him, being sure to hit where that spot was inside him that made him make the sexiest sounds, which in turn drove Ron wild. He liked how Harry seemed to give him everything, the sound of him as he completely lost control, moaning loudly. The flushed, desperate look he had, as if he almost couldn't take the pleasure he was in…

"Ah!" Harry said, arching his back. His body tensed and his nails dug deeper into Ron's skin. Ron could feel Harry come into his hand, the warm essence flowing over his fingers as he stroked and rode him through his orgasm. As Harry's body convulsed, Ron felt his arse tighten around his cock. That, coupled with Harry's crying out, was too much for him. He moaned into the crook of Harry's neck as he too came. He felt as though he went blind, for he couldn't really see as he pounded through his own climax, listening to Harry's delicious sounds and losing himself in the ecstasy of the moment.

When he could see again, he slowed and finally stopped, breathing into Harry's neck still. He slowly leaned up, taking his hands from Harry's hips and placing them on either side of his shoulders to use the bed for leverage. He hovered above Harry, his red hair hanging slightly in his eyes. His cock was still inside him as well.

Harry's emerald eyes looked back at him, half-lidded, but otherwise happy and trauma-free. Ron smiled slightly and looked down, still panting a little.

"Alright, mate?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yeah," Harry said, a laugh making its way into the word.

Ron pulled out slowly, wincing apologetically as Harry winced for a different reason. He sat up, crossing his legs and brushing his slightly sweaty red hair back from his face. Harry continued to lay there, lazily looking up at him, arms splayed out at his sides on the bed. Ron couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Ron was really tired, but felt tired in a good way this time. His other sexual encounters had left him bloody and bruised along with the fatigue, but this time Ron's neck didn't hurt, and neither did his arse. Plus, he wasn't hoarse from screaming, which was a plus. He was vaguely aware of the result of Harry's orgasm on his stomach, however, which was sticky.

He felt something on his hip and looked down. It was Harry's hand lightly grazing his fingers along the bruises there. He had probably never seen them before, since they had always been covered by his clothes.

"Greyback?" Harry said, looking up at him. His expression showed concern now, instead of the lazy contentment it had held just a second ago.

"Oh, yeah," Ron said, looking away.

Harry sighed, looking sad. He placed his hand over the bruise, mimicking the perfect handprint it made. Ron thought he heard him mutter something that sounded like 'pelt over my fireplace', which made Ron snort appreciatively. They gave each other a knowing look, both mirroring an almost-grin.

"Well Weasley, that _was_ quite a show."

Both boys jumped, looking over at the chair that held a sprawled out Draco Malfoy, who was smirking. As usual.

"Blimey, forgot arse-face was here," Ron said, looking down at Harry in surprise.

Harry snorted this time. "Me too," he added, grinning up at him.

"Ha ha," Malfoy said in an un-amused tone, getting up from his place in the black lounge chair. He shook his finger at them in a mock-parenting style. "Well, it's time for you two kidlets to get to your room. I promised Harry you could both sleep together. You can also bunk together in the same room tonight as well," Malfoy said, grinning evilly. He laughed as Harry blushed and Ron looked up at Malfoy, scowling.

"C'mon Harry," Ron said, standing up to go find his clothes. He didn't really feel awkward looking at Harry's naked body, considering what he had just done to it.

Harry made a whining noise and flopped around on the bed half-heartedly. Ron chuckled. He looked like a little kid, and this was pretty much a replay for when Harry woke up every morning in the dorms for the six years they went to Hogwarts. It seemed to have gotten more childish the older Harry got, ironically. Ron wasn't particularly a morning person, but Harry's fake tantrums at having to wake up always started the day off with a laugh.

"I'm tired," Harry said, turning his head away from everyone. He seemed not to care that he was completely bare of all clothing. "I never get a break after I've been taken advantage of, do I?"

"Oi, didn't look like you were particularly hating it," Ron argued.

Harry laughed, smiling sheepishly.

Ron threw his shirt at him, which had been on the floor along with his own shirt next to the chair Malfoy had been sitting in. It landed gently on top of Harry's head. He made no move to put it on, or even remove it from covering his face. Ron had just pulled up his jeans and boxers and fastened the button when Harry sat up, the shirt falling off and into his bare lap. He reluctantly started pulling it over his head.

As Harry sluggishly got ready to move rooms, Ron muttered under his breath to Malfoy.

"Don't think I'm not pissed with you," Ron said lowly, glaring up at the thin pale face smirking back at him. "Just because this…whatever it is, happened, doesn't mean it was right. Plus, you're still a perv for watching."

"Whatever," Malfoy answered simply.

"Okay, 'm ready," Harry said groggily from behind them.

"Oh, wait Potter," Malfoy said. He pushed Harry back onto the bed and straddled him. Then he pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's face.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Ron said quickly, moving over to them.

"Down Weasley," Malfoy said condescendingly. "I'm just doing the concealment charms again. Apparently they wear off after a while."

"Yeah, that's why Hermione never bothered with them," Ron said, seeing Harry's eyes turn to dark brown. "She didn't want to have to re-do them every few days since we were out in the forest all the-"

Harry cleared his throat loudly. Ron stopped talking, realizing he probably shouldn't reveal everything they had been doing to a Death Eater's son like an idiot. Malfoy simply drew his eyebrows together at this, and then got up off of Harry.

Harry sat up, sporting a blonde head of hair similar to Malfoy's own. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You just had to, didn't you?" Ron said, smirking.

"No you idiot," Malfoy retorted. "I can't seem to control the color. Maybe I'm not doing it right, I only learned it a couple weeks ago…"

"And you've been doing it near my face?" Harry said incredulously from the bed. "What if you set me on fire or something you bloody moron?"

"I've got it," Malfoy said, waving a hand to shut Harry up. Ron wished he could talk back to Greyback like that and get away with it. He would probably just die instead of getting a hand-wave. Ron was getting more and more jealous of Harry's living arrangements by the second. Even if it _was_ with Malfoy…

Harry got up and stalked past Malfoy. As he passed, Ron thought he heard Harry mutter something about 'skin over my fireplace too', which made him snort again, unable to contain it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** It's been shamefully long. I almost gave up on this story, but seeing your guys' reviews made me happy, and when I get happy, I get ideas. This is the result of those...

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><p>"Ron?"<p>

"Yeah?"

"Are you…I mean…do you regret…well…did you like it?" Harry said in a small voice.

Ron felt like laughing at this, for Harry rarely said anything shyly. However, he thought Harry wouldn't appreciate it much if he did.

They were both laying on the bed located in what he considered was his room, Malfoy having left moments ago, leaving them in silence. It was dark, since the evening had consisted of them vigorously fornicating before the eyes of their school enemy, and they had both laid down on the bed exhausted.

To tell the truth, Ron was confused, now that his head was a bit clearer. He had thought previously to be infatuated with Hermione, though he would never have admitted it to a soul. He had always admired her from behind when he thought no one was looking, and had even had a few more-than-friendly fantasies that he wasn't entirely proud of. But this…whatever it was…had just happened.

They had fucked like rabbits. Two gay, equally male, equally horny rabbits.

And he had liked it. A lot. Well, he certainly had liked something about it, at least, for his dick had reacted eagerly. And he couldn't blame it on simple stimulation, because he had received none at first. He had been doing the stimulating, and then proceeded to thrust right into his best friend. Not to mention, they had had an audience, which one would think would cause a small bit of stage fright in such a circumstance, especially when you were being forced to do the act via blackmail. But he hadn't felt very forced, after they had gotten started. A vast majority of the things he had done to poor Harry had been of his own accord, by his own will.

Well, he supposed this meant he was homosexual now or something. Perhaps bisexual, he was unsure on the whole thing…

But Harry hadn't seemed to mind. From what Ron could remember, somewhere between the wild panting and the loud moans of pleasure there had been a 'Yes, Ron! Oh god yes!' thrown in. This meant that he had been aware that they were two males as well, and that he had in fact been Ronald Weasley, previous friend. He supposed they were more than that now.

But Harry's hesitant tone made him feel uncomfortable. Had he done something wrong, in liking the experience?

"Yeah," he answered Harry simply. It wasn't like he could say no…

"Oh," Harry said, sounding relieved.

"Why, didn't you?" Ron said, raising an eyebrow. He thought it had been pretty obvious, but…

"Yeah," Harry said. Ron saw a small smile cross his face. "I just saw you talking to Malfoy. You looked angry or something…"

"Oh," Ron said, feeling guilty. He had thought Harry hadn't seen. "Well…..I was just pissed still, I s'pose. Don't get me wrong," Ron added hastily, seeing Harry's mildly insulted expression, "I liked it, like I said. But…I hadn't known that you would like it too. I mean, the fact that he made me do it in the first place…I thought I was gonna traumatize you or something. I didn't know that you were that way…"

Harry looked over, looking amused.

"Which is fine!" Ron stumbled over his words. He was making it worse. "I mean, I obviously don't have a problem with it, since we…and I wouldn't have anyways, or anything…"

He trailed off, blushing profusely.

"Actually, I don't think he was trying to be a dick," Harry said, sighing and sounding as though the words hurt to actually say them. He looked up at the ceiling as he continued. "Well, he probably _was_, but less so than usual. I…may have to tell you some stuff."

"What?" Ron said warily.

"Well," Harry said, sounding hesitant, "I guess there have been some times where I _may_ have thought of you in ways that were…less friend-like. But I didn't really mean to," Harry said quickly, no doubt seeing Ron raise his eyebrows. "I just sort of…couldn't help it, I guess."

"Yeah, I sort of noticed sometimes," Ron said, shrugging. "Like in the showers."

He looked over and smirked, watching Harry's cheeks turn pink, visible even in the semi-darkness.

"Your eyes always seemed to gravitate toward _me_ after practice," Ron continued, teasing him. He would never admit it, but when Harry blushed, it was…cute.

Damn it, he was gayer than he thought.

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, looking away.

"But, wait," Ron said, thinking. "So does that mean that…that you told him before you told _me_?"

He felt rather offended now. Shouldn't he have the right to know who was pining after him before Malfoy bloody knew?

"I'm sorry," Harry said, looking slightly ashamed. "He sort of made me say, and it sort of slipped out. But, I mean, I wasn't even sure, really…"

"Well, blimey mate, you know you can _tell_ me stuff," Ron said.

"I only fully realized it a few days ago," Harry said, slightly defensively. "Plus, I didn't know what you'd say. I mean, you almost jinxed Seamus when he took the last roll at breakfast one time. I had no idea how you'd react."

"Yeah, I s'pose," Ron said blankly. Having five older brothers would give anyone a short temper (especially when it concerned food). He laughed suddenly when he thought of his brothers, making Harry look at him questioningly.

"What?"

"Oh, I just realized," Ron said, still grinning at the irony. "Charlie's gay."

"Really?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows

"Yeah, he told us a while ago that he had, er, 'befriended' one of the other dragon-trainers. None of us really thought anything bad about it though," Ron said.

"Oh, well, if I had known that…" Harry trailed off, looking slightly put out.

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "I guess it's all my fault, eh?"

"Yeah, it is," Harry said teasingly. He dodged as Ron's well-aimed pillow hit him in the head.

"So like, are we 'together' now and stuff?" Ron asked suddenly. It probably sounded blunt and un-romantic, not to mention stupid, but he didn't know how else to say it. Plus, it was rather unimportant if they were considered a couple when both of them were in captivity like this.

"I guess so," Harry said, sounding confused as well. He turned his wide, innocent eyes to look at him. "I mean, fucking me is a pretty good ice-breaker, so…"

They stared at each other, then burst out laughing.

* * *

><p>It was later, when both of them were attempting to get some sleep in the eyes of their newfound<em> relationship<em>, that Ron started to suffer.

"Merlin," he mumbled to himself, curling his legs up a little more. Harry's arm was draped over his midsection from behind him. They weren't spooning, but they were close to it.

He closed his eyes, willing his raging hard-on to go away.

The memories of that evening were starting to replay in his head. At first they had been welcome, the visions of Harry's beautiful form panting and whining beneath him. But after he had felt the physical consequence of these, he had tried to stop. Then, when he attempted sleep, he found that Harry was all he could think about.

Harry didn't know that he was already destroying Ron's sanity. The noises he had made echoed throughout Ron's brain, reducing him to a sightless zombie. It was all there was.

That noise. The noise Harry had made when he came. He had cried out, but it wasn't a normal cry. It was the most pleasure-filled verbal exclamation Ron had ever heard. And it was short, yet breathless. Almost like a sigh, but louder. Perhaps even a whine of sorts. He hadn't known such a beautiful sound existed. It haunted him for hours, making him unable to think.

Just Harry, gasping and moaning, lying on his back, legs tucked at Ron's sides…completely at his mercy. He shuddered, thinking of the things he had wanted to do to that poor boy, the things he _still_ wanted to do. Harry would be taken in as many ways, as many positions, as possible as soon as they got out of here.

His cock ached. When would that be, exactly?

He realized now how pathetic he was. He knew it. One encounter with Harry and he was hopelessly addicted. It had been, what, a few hours? Yet now he was already aching for more. More of those sweet, erotic sounds that drove him mad with desire, even when he had already been pounding away at that poor, innocent arse. That arse that seemed to beckon to him…

No, he had to stop this. His hand had been wandering down his torso to his zipper before he halted it. He felt it slightly unethical to wank in front of his new boyfriend of a few hours. Also a bit more rude to pounce on him moments after he had ravished him thoroughly. But he didn't know if he could take this. Maybe if he was quiet…

"Hm, what's this?" Harry's voice said quietly behind him. Ron felt his very alert manhood suddenly be seized from the hand that had been resting at his side only seconds ago.

He gasped, stiffening his back. He had thought Harry was asleep.

"Well?" Harry said teasingly, not letting go. He squeezed slightly.

"I believe it's a penis," Ron said in a strangled voice. "A lot of blokes have them, you see…"

"Yeah, but not ones quite so…large," Harry whispered sexily into his ear. Ron had to hold back a moan.

"Bigger than Malfoy's?"

"By a lot."

Ron rolled right over and pounced, unable to take it anymore. Harry was so hot when he insulted Malfoy. Harry was so hot when he did anything. They snogged furiously, Harry seeming just as eager. Had he been thinking about this too?

Ron decided that he didn't care. All he wanted was Harry and Harry's arse. He growled slightly in anticipation and ran his fingers through that now-blonde hair. It looked so much better next to Harry's attractive face than it did on that other git.

But he supposed he had that other git to thank for this, sort of.

He felt Harry grab his arms then, in what he thought was an act to push him away. Ron was about to ask what was wrong before he felt Harry's weight shift. Next thing he knew, he was on his back, and Harry was straddling him now.

"Now, you'll have to help me, because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing," Harry said as he pulled away. Ron watched him back away on the surface of the bed, almost like a cat, until he was sitting on Ron's legs.

He pulled the zipper to Ron's jeans down slowly.

Ron groaned as he realized what Harry was doing.

Harry undid Ron's trousers fully now, but only pulled the fabric away enough to expose his almost painfully erect penis. The way Harry looked at it was with curiosity, which he couldn't stop himself in time before the word 'adorable' popped into his head.

Christ, how had he not seen this whole 'gay' thing coming?

Harry pulled Ron's legs apart now, getting between them. Ron looked down at him, unable to move. He was paralyzed by either anticipation or arousal, he wasn't sure.

When Harry leaned down while looking up at his face, Ron was still unprepared for the feeling of that hot, wet mouth enveloping him.

He tried not to gasp in surprise. He wasn't quite sure what was better: the feeling of Harry's mouth, or the sight of that pink tongue as it touched his cock first before Harry's lips followed. Ron could tell that Harry was trying to undo him. No one looked that attractive by accident.

"Uhh," Ron sighed, running his fingers through that wild hair.

Harry went down as far as he could, which was actually almost all the way. Ron was rather impressed that he hadn't gagged or anything. However, this feeling was heavily outweighed by the sensation of Harry's tongue and what he was doing with it.

It worked at the underside of his cock mercilessly. He moaned, feeling Harry move back up again, little pink tongue teasing him. After doing this several times, making Ron's breaths heavy with lust, Harry then began lightly licking the tip. Ron turned his head to the side, closing his eyes.

"Harry, you're gonna kill me," he said breathlessly as the onslaught against the head of his cock continued. He thought he could feel a small smirk, though he couldn't be sure.

Harry engulfed him fully again, placing hands on his hips to steady his actions. Ron felt the tiniest hint of teeth, making him let out a small "ah!" of pleasure. It was oddly nice, feeling Harry's perfectly straight teeth graze him lightly, which he wouldn't have expected to feel good, really.

It continued like this, Ron watching Harry's actions as he continued to slowly slip into madness. Harry played with him, not knowing that he was making Ron go insane just by the sight of what he was doing. The sensations made him weak, and he moaned and writhed beneath Harry and his dangerous tongue.

"You have no idea how good you feel," Ron said breathlessly, grabbing a handful of the bed coverings in order to stay conscious.

Harry continued to move up and down his thoroughly excited cock. He felt the fingers that were grasping his hips caress the skin there slightly, as if encouraging him. He laughed internally. What was he supposed to do? He was too far gone to think straight…

"Ohh…" Ron moaned, turning his head to the side again. He felt way too good. He would surely burst into flames…

Harry continued, ignoring his desperate-sounding moans. He was relentless as his hot breath ghosted over Ron's dick while he sucked him thoroughly.

"Oh," Ron breathed, arching his back slightly, "Harry, I'm – "

But he felt a hand come up to rest on his abdomen, telling him to shut up. Harry was going to finish this, it seemed.

Upon realizing this, he couldn't stand it any longer. He began to lightly thrust into Harry's mouth, moving with the pace he had set. Ron was so aroused he didn't think he could have been any more so. Harry was going to take him, drink him down. He couldn't imagine anything better.

"Oh god," Ron moaned. He tensed, coming into Harry's warm, wet mouth. His cum flowed freely while Harry sucked on him, taking it all in. His hand clutched at the wild locks beneath them, the orgasm made that much better as he saw a small amount dribble from the corner of Harry's mouth. He felt the tongue move on his cock as Harry swallowed a few times, finishing with a flourish as he sucked the last down and swallowed again for good measure.

Ron lay there, chest heaving. He couldn't move. It had all been so hot...too hot…

Harry pulled away, grinning in an innocent manner that gave the impression he hadn't just sucked off another boy in a dark room.

Ron stared incredulously. How could someone look so innocent and cute, yet do such filthy things?

Harry grimaced, wiping away the semen that had escaped during the job.

"Ew," he said, looking over at Ron with a look of distaste and amusement at the same time. Ron laughed.

"Is it bad?" he asked. He knew that Greyback's tasted horrible, but he didn't know what his own was like, for obvious reasons. Perhaps when you were evil, it tasted worse.

"It's not _good_," Harry admitted, looking down at what had produced the liquid in the first place. "Saves on cleanup, though," he added as an afterthought.

Ron chuckled and did up his own jeans again. He sat up, feeling rather selfish.

"Do you want me to…er…" he offered lamely. Ron could tell already that this being with another bloke was going to be confusing.

He could see Harry blush again. Ron wondered why, until he looked down to see a wet spot on Harry's jeans, where he had undoubtedly already come as well. He seemed rather embarrassed by it.

Ron laughed slightly, then hastily apologized for doing so.

"You were making a lot of noise," Harry said, looking down as his cheeks deepened in color.

Ron thought it was bloody fantastic, really. Harry had been so turned-on he didn't even need to be touched? Or _had_ he touched himself? He decided that it didn't matter, because either action, really, was hot when he thought of Harry doing it.

Harry flopped down on his stomach on the bed, looking mortified. Ron didn't really see what the problem was.

But Harry's arse looked so good in those jeans, and he had been so merciless with his mouth just now, so Ron got a wicked idea of his own. He crawled over to the other boy, before he could move, and pulled him up again. Harry sounded as though he were about to protest, but he dragged him backward before he could voice it correctly. Ron leaned back against the headboard of the bed, pulling Harry close to lean against his chest.

"I think we can make you come again," Ron whispered right next to his ear, biting it lightly when he finished. He grinned, perhaps evilly, but who could tell.

Harry shuddered and his breath hitched.

Ron reached around and undid the buttons on Harry's trousers now, Harry's legs already spread wide by coincidence. He nipped at the back of his neck and slid a hand into the wet jeans, underneath the equally wet boxer-thingies.

He continued to tickle Harry's neck with light kisses as he wrapped a hand around that cock that was already hardening for him again. Ron's legs were spread outside of Harry's, trapping him there until Ron decided he was finished. That was the effect he wanted to make, anyway. He stroked up and down, using Harry's own cum to make it slick. Harry squirmed slightly, whining in that breathless tone already.

Ron smirked slightly against Harry's skin. Those were the sounds he wanted to hear…

Harry moaned as Ron's grip tightened. He pumped a bit faster and nibbled a bit harder, making the breathless teen in front of him pant openly. He felt the pressure against his chest as Harry pushed back against him. Ron could feel the intensity, and knew it was only a matter of time…

"Are you usually this randy?" Ron muttered teasingly. He chuckled, feeling Harry's head drop back onto his own shoulder.

"J-just for you," Harry breathed. His face was pink and his mouth was open slightly.

Ron couldn't stop himself from sticking his tongue into it. They shared a fiery kiss that lasted a good while, tongues battling and teeth biting lips every few seconds. When they pulled apart for air, Ron attacked the crook of Harry's neck again, making him sigh breathily. Merlin, if Harry didn't quit it with the noises, then _he_ would get hard again, and this would be a never-ending cycle…

"God Harry, you're so hot," Ron said against that smooth skin. "Just, everything you do. Fuck."

"Ohhh…" Harry sighed, sounding overwhelmed. He had begun to thrust lightly into Ron's hand, moving against the steady strokes in an obvious need for more friction. His legs were bent at the knees now, feet planted on the bed as he writhed beneath Ron's touch, moaning and feeling extremely warm with all that clothing on.

Ron dearly wished he had removed it, but he knew Harry was close and didn't want to deny him now. A naked Harry was a beautiful Harry, though…

"Mm…" Harry hummed, reaching back and fisting Ron's hair. His pants were becoming shorter and his moans more insistent.

"Next time I get the chance, I'm gonna fuck you. Long, and hard." Ron said, hoping to get Harry off on a good note. He realized this had been a good move, judging by the strangled whimper he received in response.

Hmm… It seemed Harry had a thing for dirty-talk.

"Uh, Ron, don't stop!" Harry said, bucking a bit more wildly now. His grip tightened in Ron's red hair, but he didn't mind.

This was fucking hot just feeling Harry next to him, grinding against his hand and whining into the stillness of the room. Surely someone had heard them, but he couldn't care less. They were probably wanking themselves too just hearing this shit…

"Ah!" Harry gave that wonderful cry again, the one that was guaranteed to haunt his every thought for days, and gripped Ron's leg tightly. His body locked and Ron felt the result of Harry's second orgasm for the hour flood over his hand. Harry panted and moaned, then fell back onto Ron's chest when it was over.

Ron chuckled lightly and kissed Harry on the back of the neck. He pulled his hand back from the now thoroughly wet trousers and wiped his hand on the carpet beneath the bed. He sniggered, knowing that Malfoy probably wouldn't appreciate cum on his guest bedroom floor, which made him rub it thoroughly into the fibers as he did so.

He felt sort of bad now, since there was no way to clean up Harry's soaked jeans, really. Neither of them had a wand to siphon it away, and asking Malfoy to do so was out of the question, seeing as how the door was locked. Plus, he would probably tease them mercilessly.

Harry lay limply against his chest, facing away and breathing evenly. His head rested lazily against Ron's heart. Ron wondered if he was asleep.

"Oi, you awake?" he whispered against Harry's ear.

No response. Well, that clarified that mystery. He had never known Harry to fall asleep so fast. Though, he guessed that three orgasms in one day would be enough to put a lot of people out…

Ron leaned back again and figured that, since he wasn't uncomfortable, he would be fine sleeping like this anyway. With his arms wrapped around Harry's middle, he scooted down a bit and nestled into place.

Ron found it weird that, even though they had been simply friends just yesterday, they were now technically an item. Or, as much of an 'item' as two people could be in a situation like this. Before all this he would _never_ have thought of touching Harry's cock, or speaking to him with such filthy words, or even holding him like this as they slept. Ever since Malfoy had basically forced them to have sex, it seemed that they were a lot more comfortable about this stuff.

And, it seemed that Harry had actually _wanted_ it, and for a long time. Whether Harry himself had realized this beforehand or not, Ron was unsure, but the reaction he had gotten when they had been going at it together…well, it had made Ron himself a bit more accepting of the situation as well. He had fucked him like there was no tomorrow, and liked it. He liked the way Harry gasped and moaned like a schoolgirl. He liked the slow grinding of Harry's hips against his own. He liked sticking his cock in that tight, warm space, and thrusting into it until they were both coming the hardest they had ever come. He liked it so much, he had just fooled around with Harry a few minutes ago because he had been too hard just thinking about it. And now, he was _cuddling_.

Sex definitely complicated things.

But then, he wouldn't exchange it for anything. If anyone had asked him even a month ago if he was gay, he would have said 'no' awkwardly and wondered why they even thought that about him. Then he would have gone and done something to prove his masculinity, wondering if Hermione thought the same thing about him. Now, he could respond with a 'yes', and then proceed to fuck Harry right in front of them as confirmation.

He tried to feel bad about the vulgarity of his thoughts whenever Harry was involved, but it was difficult. The things Harry did to him…

And, with those happy thoughts echoing through his mind, Ron finally drifted to sleep as well.

* * *

><p>"Potter. Potter!"<p>

Ron jolted awake at the random shout. He felt a heaviness on his chest and realized that Harry was still leaning against him, though was now shifting tiredly and groaning.

"Potter, wake up."

Ron looked over to see Malfoy standing haughtily across the room, arms folded. Ron blinked and rubbed his eyes.

"Don't wanna," Harry mumbled. Ron chuckled slightly, looking down at the wild hair.

He had forgotten it was blonde now.

"Come on, Potter," Malfoy said impatiently. He shifted from foot to foot, looking back at the door, which was open now. Was he nervous?

"Can't he stay a bit more?" Ron asked. He moved his arms from around Harry's waist in order to ruffle the blonde locks that went every which-way, making Harry groan sleepily again.

"No," Malfoy said simply.

Ron glared. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because," Malfoy gave him a pointed look, obviously trying to communicate something. Ron didn't get it, for his brain was too tired to function properly. Draco gave an almost-sympathetic look before saying, "Greyback."

Ron felt his stomach go cold. He closed his eyes and groaned as well, though with a greater magnitude than the boy against him.

Harry seemed to notice, too, for he sat up quickly and looked up at Malfoy.

"What? Is he back?" Harry said, sounding panicked.

"…Yes."

The room went silent then. Malfoy looked at them both, a blank expression on his face. Harry was breathing rather fast, and Ron was dreading what was undoubtedly to come. Malfoy seemed to lose his patience after only a few seconds.

"Look Potter, we have to leave."

"I don't want to," Harry said. He sounded really sad, which broke Ron's heart.

"Harry, you should go," Ron said shakily. He didn't want Harry to leave, but he also didn't want him to be here when it happened. Worse things would no doubt occur if that were the case.

"But…but…" Harry said, looking from him to Malfoy and back. Ron could see a slight glisten in his eyes, which were no longer hidden by his glasses.

Ron could feel a stinging in his own eyes just from seeing him so upset, but now was not the time. Malfoy was looking more and more anxious the longer they waited, which meant only one thing: Greyback was close.

"Harry, I'll see you later, yeah?" Ron said, wishing his voice wouldn't waver like that.

"Okay," Harry said in a thick voice.

He wiggled off the bed, not looking in Ron's direction. This was probably in an attempt to hide his emotions, but it was a bit late for that…

Ron got up too and grabbed Harry before he left. He turned him around to face him and kissed those full lips once more, just to make sure yesterday wasn't a very long and erotic dream. Ron knew it was sappy, the 'goodbye' kiss, but he didn't care. He could feel wetness on his left cheek as they embraced, but whether it was his own or Harry's, he wasn't sure. He just wished it wasn't there at all. Finally, they let go, and Harry turned quickly without saying another word.

Malfoy rolled his eyes briefly, then followed.

And Ron was alone.

* * *

><p>He didn't quite know which was worse: the waiting or the actual abuse itself. Greyback probably kept him waiting on purpose, just to draw out the suspense. It seemed like the sick type of thing he would do.<p>

Ron rubbed the scars on his neck in memory of the horrible creature. The crudely healed wounds weren't completely noticeable, he thought, but he could definitely feel them. Perhaps it was since he knew they were there, or perhaps because they were considered cursed wounds. Bill's scars from Greyback still hadn't faded, but having them on your face was a bit more noticeable than on the back of your neck. Ron suspected Bill's attack had been somewhat worse, too, because those scars seemed a lot more deep and scary-looking. But then, Ron couldn't see his own very well in the mirror. Perhaps they were worse than he thought.

He hated not knowing things. As much as Hermione thought he was a dunderhead, Ron knew a fair amount of things to get along, thank you very much. But with his doom encroaching on him by each second, and not knowing how close that doom actually was, it was driving him mad.

Again, this was probably Greyback's goal.

"Miss me, pup?"

Speak of the devil.

Ron didn't have to look up to guess who the gruff voice belonged to. Unless Malfoy had finally gone through puberty.

"Not particularly," Ron said, trying to work as much venom into his own voice as he could, though it was somewhat muffled by the bed he was lying on face-down.

Admittedly, it probably just looked more inviting to the beast, but at this point Ron didn't care much anymore. It wasn't like he wouldn't take what he wanted anyways. Plus, it helped Ron mask a bit of the fear, giving the werewolf less satisfaction.

"Still feisty I see," Greyback growled in response.

Ron felt himself grabbed roughly and pulled around to face him. His breath was horrible, as usual, like that of a wild dog as he sneered in Ron's face.

"We can fix that, I'm sure. How do you want it today?"

Ron looked away stubbornly. He refused to answer. This beast may have power over him physically, but he would fight back in any way he was still able to. The man couldn't make him speak.

"Wow, little pup, you _do_ like it rough, don't you?" his deep voice rumbled, but Ron continued to glare at the wall behind him. "Such a little whore," he chuckled.

Ron felt himself bounce on the bed as he was thrown down again. With dread radiating throughout him, he knew Greyback was going to try his hardest to make this the worst one yet. It had been a while, after all. He looked up at the monstrous figure standing before him, and closed his eyes, wishing it were Harry instead.

But when the bed dipped and his arms were yanked up for him to be brought to his knees, he couldn't help but open his eyes again to see what was going to happen to him this time. Greyback dragged him over to one of the four posts on the bed and pointed his wand at his wrists.

"_Incarcerous!"_

Ron felt the ropes snake around his arms, binding him painfully tight to the tall post so that he was more upright, but still secure. He tugged at the ropes, testing their durability. Of course, they held strong like always.

"Hmm," Greyback breathed right into his ear. He inhaled next to Ron's throat, smelling him.

Ron cringed away. He had forgotten how scary this was, even just after two days…

Suddenly he felt his hips dragged back, propping him on his knees in a way that put too much pressure on his bound wrists and which made him arch his back slightly. He couldn't escape the initial panic he always encountered when he felt Greyback reach around him to undo his trousers. The panic of an oncoming storm that was too horrible to imagine.

He put his forehead against the wooden post, trying to think about something else as his jeans were pushed roughly down around his upper thighs. Just enough for Greyback to get at what he wanted. The way he caressed Ron's legs and arse would have been intimate with anyone else, but Ron shuddered, disgusted. He wished he wouldn't touch him like that, as if inspecting an animal for a sacrifice, or perhaps a meal he was about to devour. Ron shifted away from the large hands as best he could in his current position, but they just followed him.

He could hear the beginnings of Greyback's arousal. The quick, heavy breathing that foretold of torture until the beast saw fit to end it. Ron's breath was quick too, but not in eager anticipation, that was for certain.

"Such a round, tight little arse," Greyback admired in his deep gravelly voice. Ron closed his eyes and wished he would just get on with it.

He felt Greyback's hands slide up from his hips and along his back, pushing his shirt up to get a better view, no doubt. The calloused, rough hands made him shudder again. Nothing about this man was gentle.

As the hands continued their slow exploration, Ron felt himself growing more and more afraid. This was undoubtedly what the man wanted to instill. Fear. He had never been quite so patient like this before, never drawn out the horrid foreplay this long. But, it had been a long time. He probably wanted to make up for it, Ron thought sickeningly. Perhaps lulling him into a false sense of security…

With his head against the post and eyes closed, Ron was preparing himself for what was to come next. Finally, after being felt up like he was being taken into the ministry, he could feel Fenrir positioning himself eagerly. With no more warning than that, he thrust into Ron without a care to anything else.

Ron had felt this particular pain before, the feeling of being split in two at the hand of Greyback. That, however, did not mean that it got easier with each encounter. He had wondered briefly before if Draco healing him would mean he was returned to his virginal state, but cast out the idea in his tired haze. He didn't know if his theory was right or if it was always going to be like this, but either way, it hurt like hell.

He couldn't stop the muffled cry that came from his mouth, which he had tried to silence with his arm in order to not give Greyback the satisfaction. Apparently the werewolf heard it, though, for he growled in delight.

"You _did_ miss me, didn't you pup?" he sneered against the back of Ron's neck.

He merely bit the skin of his arm, hoping to not further embarrass himself with weak noises.

_Think of Harry_, Ron thought desperately as Greyback began to move against him.

But he didn't want to think of Harry while he was feeling pain radiate up his spine. He didn't want to associate the one good thing about this place with being fucked by Greyback.

His breath came shallowly as he felt the large cock pounding into him without mercy. Fenrir growled behind him, holding his hips tightly. The bruises had just started to fade, of course, but would no doubt be back on his hips by this evening. Ron's hands scrabbled helplessly at the post they were tied too in an effort to hold onto _something_, keep himself from going mad. But the position they were in didn't give him a good grip, and he could feel the ropes irritate his skin as he was pushed roughly forward by Greyback's gigantic paw. The scars he had gained from their infiltration at the ministry, from the brain that had tried to absorb into his skin, were still to this day a bit sensitive. The ropes in a way reminded him of the slimy little tentacles that had given him the scars, and the panic buried deep within his chest mirrored that of the day he got them. His back arched more, giving the beast a better angle, but Ron couldn't do anything to prevent it.

"Uh," he let out, hanging his head from the agony. No doubt he would be bleeding again by the end of this, if he wasn't already. Why did this have to be so embarrassing?

One of the hands behind him smacked an arse cheek, making his face go hot with anger and humiliation. The speed of the violent thrusting increased.

"Mmm," Greyback hummed, grasping firmly at his hips. He pulled Ron back to meet his thrusts harder, making him gasp in pain.

He was trying to be quiet, it was true. If he had his way, he would be screaming now, but the thought that Harry might be able to hear stopped him. Ron didn't want him to know how much it hurt, despite the fact that Harry had already seen the bruises. That he knew Greyback had returned. Knew what he was currently doing. However, Ron's strong determination to deny Greyback his tortured moans kept him trying to breathe instead. If he just kept breathing, he could make it.

He dropped his head again, trying to concentrate. His pained gasps for air were taking a lot of energy to control.

But he felt a large hand remove itself from one of his hips and snake around his torso. It brought itself upward and towards the front of his neck, which reminded him of the first encounter he had with the man…

"No!" Ron gasped, flinching away as best he could.

Fenrir growled, still thrusting into him hard, and held him firmly. The hand closed around Ron's throat, preventing him from moving away again.

Just like the first time, Greyback clutched his neck, strangling him and preventing air from getting in, not to mention undoubtedly causing more bruises. Ron felt his head go fuzzy as he tried to draw breath, and his eyes watered at the pain. His hands struggled to release themselves from the ropes again, but to no avail. He could only sit, feeling the pounding in his arse continue, while he struggled to breathe. When he thought for sure he was going to pass out, his vision almost entirely black, he felt the pain suddenly release. He _just_ had the awareness to draw in air, and his eyesight slowly returned. He gasped repeatedly, the combined pain in his arse and returned consciousness making him do so. He heard Greyback laugh darkly, clearly amused at his suffering.

Ron tried to wipe the tears away on his arm before Greyback saw them.

He felt the man lift him partially and shift his body forward so that he was more upright. It was a relief to his wrists, which had been bearing a lot of his weight, but he felt repulsed to have the large man's arm around his torso like it was. The firm arm held Ron still, no doubt to prevent any unwanted movement or squirming while he was fucked into oblivion. The wild thrusts picked up again and Ron couldn't stifle his agonized moan.

"Uhh," he groaned, sinking his teeth into his own arm again to try and cut it short.

"Found your voice then, pup?" the man growled, his hand slithering up into Ron's red hair. "Thought for sure you were getting bored with me, but that's not the case, eh?"

Ron panted, his hands shaking with the combined effort of keeping himself upright and not responding to his taunts. If he just waited until this was all over, he could rage and scream all he wanted. If he did it now, it would only make things worse for him. The concept was a huge blow to his pride and sense of self-worth, but survival was higher up on his list right now. He had to live through this to see Harry again. To assure him he was alright. Harry couldn't do all this, be trapped in this horrid place, while being alone as well. Ron had to at least try to prevent Harry facing all of this without him, even if he did wish death upon himself already.

It was a drastic change from their last encounter, but Ron kept as quiet as he possibly could.

He could tell, at some point, that Greyback was beginning to get frustrated with the lack of response. He would push harder, smack him roughly, and his bites turned vicious as the clock ticked on. Soon Ron couldn't help but utter noises of discomfort. It was all he could do to deal with the pain of their hips colliding with such force, or the feeling of teeth breaking through his skin. This, at least, seemed to please the wretched monster, and he came with a low snarl.

Ron didn't move as the heated liquid flooded inside him. He didn't move when Greyback pulled out and did up his trousers. He didn't even respond at the filthy parting words, more comments about how lovely his arse was, and that they would meet again soon.

He just hung his head and waited for the inevitable click of the door before he decided to finally fall apart.

Tears streamed down his face again as he shuffled forward on his knees into a more comfortable position. His wrists ached, as well as his arms, and his arse felt used and sore. He suspected it was numb from how hard Greyback had been this time. Perhaps he would feel it worse tomorrow. His forehead thumped against the bed post.

He was angry. Angry that all of this was happening to him. Angry that he couldn't be with Harry when he most needed it. Angry that they were trapped here, being put through some sort of sick observation at how much sexual torture they could take before they caved in and went mad. How had this happened? How could their suspicions of what would happen to them were they captured, how they would be tortured or killed, have been so far off the mark? He hadn't expected this. Sure, he had expected pain and humiliation, but nothing of this magnitude or in such a way that made him feel like this. Nothing that made him feel so hopeless and desperate to make it stop.

But he had to keep fighting. It was his anger, these large tears of frustration cascading down his face, that pushed him onward. He had to survive through all this. Otherwise, what was the point? What was the point of them going on this mission, going through so much trouble to get these bloody Horcruxes? What was the point of them being captured and Malfoy saving them from death? What was the point of him and Harry realizing that they were clearly more than friends in the captivity of Death Eaters, of all places?

What was the bloody point?

He tried to shut away his sobs in order to feel less pitiful. But it was difficult. He just needed a moment to vent, where he was alone and free from the prying eyes of his enemies. He had to let it out now, when Harry wasn't around to see his shame.

This was what he had been reduced to? A sniveling mess that was used as a mere vessel for Greyback's sexual desires? He was only kept alive now for one purpose, and that was to satisfy a monster. How long would he last before he was killed? How long would it be before Greyback was too rough with him? What if his next bite was too deep, or what if Ron didn't wake up the next time Greyback decided to cut off his air supply? What if he got bored of Ron and decided to move on to another captive?

His tear-streaked face screwed up with anger, and he glared up at the mirror across from him. Like hell the man would get his hands on Hermione, or Dean, or Luna. He couldn't let this…this horrible way of existing…he couldn't let it happen to anyone else. The feeling of utter helplessness, knowing that your body now belonged to a blood-thirsty monster. Knowing that no one would care if he accidentally killed you.

But that wasn't true. People would care. His family…his parents…Harry…they would care.

Ron didn't know if that made it better, or worse.

He gave another quiet sob, feeling that perhaps he was done crying now. Maybe, if he could just see Harry again, he wouldn't feel so pathetic. He wouldn't feel like the lowly seventeen-year-old that was currently tied to a bed post after having been forcibly raped by a much, much older man.

However, another sob escaped when he concentrated on his own body long enough.

The feeling of his limbs, the ropes cutting into him roughly along his wrists and forearms. His legs aching from being on his knees for so long. His arse still humiliatingly exposed, despite his best effort to sit on his heels. With disgust, he could yet again feel the product of Greyback's orgasm leaking out of his body. The wetness of his cheeks, tears still flowing freely even though he desperately tried to stop them. Ron could feel a small trickle down the back of his neck as well, and figure he was simply bleeding from one of the man's bites. He was so tired…

The door opened suddenly, and Ron ducked quickly in order to wipe his face on his arm. He didn't want to give the man more reason to taunt him.

"It's just me."

He looked up to see Malfoy again. Yes, he should have suspected.

Ron didn't say anything, but he did feel relief at the presence of the blond again. It was strange, being happy that a Malfoy was in the room. However, the lesser of two evils was always the more welcome one…

"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding wary.

"What d'you think?" Ron asked quietly. He tried to work anger into the sentence, but it just came out sounding like a sarcastic whisper.

Malfoy tapped the bedpost with his wand and the ropes disappeared. Ron fell backward clumsily, having been held there for so long, but felt relieved to finally have the use of his arms again. He pulled up his trousers quickly, using this newfound freedom to shield himself from Malfoy's eyes.

"You're not hard this time, I see?" the blond said flatly.

"W-what?" Ron asked indignantly.

"I see that Greyback doesn't seem to take care of your needs as much," Malfoy shrugged.

"Worked that out, have you?" Ron said sharply. The blood and bruises should have been an indication already. Did Malfoy really expect Greyback to care about him enjoying the experience?

"Come here," Malfoy gestured, and Ron sat up slowly. He shuffled warily over to the edge, hoping the brandished wand was an offer of help, not a threat.

Luckily, his trust had been well-placed this time, because Malfoy started muttering healing charms again. He felt some of the jabbing pains relieve themselves, in his neck, on his bruised skin, and after much persuasion, his arse. Ron couldn't begin to describe the awkwardness of having to reveal his bare arse to Malfoy voluntarily, as if it were some weird inspection. Well, in a way, it technically was. Though it wasn't the first time Malfoy had paid it any attention…

Ron blushed as he recalled the inexplicable time that Malfoy had come into his room to wank him (and perform other actions). It had been the time Greyback had left him with an unwanted present, the surprise erection that had somehow formed. The fact that Malfoy had just mentioned it a moment ago made Ron wonder if the two incidents had been connected. Malfoy said he 'didn't know' why he did it, but…had it been out of pity?

It must have been, because Malfoy couldn't have found him attractive in that way. He tried to ignore the fact that, during the encounter he was remembering, Malfoy had seemed a bit too eager to help. He distinctly remembered a hard-on pressing against him during the blonde's ministrations. But, perhaps that had just been a reflex.

Yes. Of course.

When Malfoy tapped a spot on his neck, knitting together his skin again, he sighed in a way that showed ride in his work, as if Ron were some sort of project.

"Bout as good as I can get it, I'm afraid," he said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks," Ron said awkwardly. He felt so tired again, as was common after suffering Greyback, but there was only one thing he really wanted to do. "Can I see Harry?" he asked hopefully."

Malfoy paused.

"No," he said shortly.

"What? Why?" Ron asked quickly.

"Greyback might come back."

"Oh no," Ron moaned, clutching a hand in his hair. The thought of two encounters in one day was exhausting. Surely he would pass out halfway through, and how much punishment would that earn him next time?

If there even was a next time. This thought alone made Ron panic.

He could possibly never see Harry again. If Greyback killed him, Harry would be all alone here, suffering at the hands of Malfoy. Albeit, his treatment wasn't nearly as rough as it was when you were Greyback's plaything, but it would be made so much worse without the breaks from reality, the small amounts of time that they were allowed to see each other. Without that, Harry would surely go mad.

And Ron had to see him at least one more time, if that were to happen.

"Please," he said, not caring how desperate he sounded. "Please, just quickly, just for a second. Then I'll come back. Please…"

Malfoy eyed him warily, clearly weighing the consequences in his mind.

"_Fine," _he said exasperatedly, and Ron jumped up eagerly. The movement made his body ache, but it was worth it if he got to go.

"But," Malfoy turned, using his wand to point, "no snogging unless I get to watch."

"You're horrible," Ron shot, disgusted. Malfoy smirked, and led their way out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note Again: <strong>So, what the hell is up with Draco? Will Greyback return? Why am I asking you these questions? Because I want you to review, that's why.


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